Lessons
by Kirixchi
Summary: [COMPLETE]- Narcissa Black wasn't always a golden girl. She had a beauty that no one could see...until she started taking lessons from a master. Will Lucius Malfoy get more than he bargained for?
1. Default Chapter

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is blatant, unrepentant (Death Eater!) fluff that was written for my dear friend Aulizia. The characterizations of Lucius, Narcissa and (to some extent) Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange are very much a departure from how I usually depict them. However, it was fun to try a new "take" on my favourite couple and to get away from my usual angsty or purely humorous fare. So, consider it an experiment- hopefully an entertaining one. -K Chapter 1 Loved, Hated, but Never Ignored 

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It didn't surprise Lucius Malfoy that the Black Family motto was "_toujours__ pur_". Quite apart from the family's noted pureblood mania, he found it appropriate on another level. It was the perfect antonym for their surname and, put together, the words summed up quite nicely the essence of what it was to be a member of that clan: Corrupted and Pure- Black and White. For them, there was never anything in between.

Malfoy considered himself well qualified to make this observation, for he had known the family his entire life. Although his father, Marius Malfoy, and the Black family patriarch, Orion, were often at loggerheads, their wives were devoted friends. Lucius passed many summer evenings at the Black's home, Ravensden Hall, playing hide and seek in the ancient manor, and dueling in the gardens with the little Blacks.

It was a pity that Mrs. Black had died so young. Quite contrary to fashion, she was a beloved wife and a devoted mother to her three little girls but she had always been a delicate thing. Her third daughter had nearly killed her. So, it was little surprise that bringing her fourth child into the world- the son that the Blacks craved so dearly- did.

Mrs. Black might have lived if she had let the mediwizard use magic to bring the child. But she knew that magical birthings almost always squibbed the child, and a squib would not have been tolerated by the Blacks. So Lucretia Black died, aged 32, the mother of Andromeda, Bellatrix, Narcissa and little Rigel who outlived her by less than a month.

Though his visits to Ravenseden ended with Mrs. Blacks's death, Lucius knew the elder two Black sisters well. Effervescent, apple-cheeked Andromeda and mercurial, ravishing Bellatrix were Slytherins with him at school. His memories of Narcissa, however, were murky. Her little face was frozen in his memory just as it had looked at six-years old when he saw her hiding in the corner at her mother's funeral. He remembered only tear-stained eyes of the most extraordinary blue peeking out occasionally from the pages of a musty book. She had been sent away to Beauxbatons, their mothers' school, and he hadn't heard from her in years.

Although the Blacks were admitted to the most rarefied of social circles, they seldom lodged appearances at balls. Lucius's mother (who fretted constantly about the girls, but never did anything to help them) opined that this was a result of their being consigned to the care of their father and the dubious influence of their all-together terrifying aunt. "Orion ought to have married again!" Evelyn Malfoy invariably sighed whenever the Blacks were mentioned in conversation. Her conviction was unshakable (though Lucius guessed that she held a very different opinion on the subject of her own replacement). "Those poor, motherless girls…" She curled her fingers as she spoke, almost as if she could imagine her slender fingers raking through Bella's coal-black hair, or Andromeda and Narcissa's curls. "They're running positively wild."

Lucius probably would have lost touch of the Blacks entirely after school if not for his friendship with Rodolphus Lestrange. Malfoy couldn't justly say that he _liked_ the other boy, but his company was not as painful as most. Lestrange was handsome, rich, intelligent and easily amused, qualities that made for a good companion, and so Lucius was often by his side. At Hogwarts, Rodolphus and Bellatrix Black began a romance, a romance that eventually thrust she and her sister unexpectedly back into Malfoy's world.

Lestrange considered himself quite the rogue, but ever since fourth year, Bellatrix Black had kept him wrapped around her little finger. He liked to think that his little dalliances were proof that he was still his own man, but Lucius was certain that Bellatrix knew what she was doing. She reminded him of nothing so much as a fisherman, giving slack to coax a fish into tiring itself out before reeling him into the boat.

In recent months, Bella's hold on Rodolphus had become more serious. For five years she had kept up the charade of wanting nothing more than to glide along on Rodolphus's arm to parties and let him sew his wild oats. Things were changing though. By the time that they turned twenty, it was obvious to Malfoy that she intended to be made a proper wife, though Lestrange was still blissfully in the dark. He was around her nearly constantly; so that it was no surprise when he cancelled at the last minute on Lucius's offer to spend the winter holidays abroad.

"Oh, come on, Lucius. Come with me to Ravensden instead! Mr. Black is going to be in Buenos Ares almost all month, and you know how difficult it is for Bella to get time alone…"

_It hadn't always been_, Lucius wanted to point out, but didn't. The two youngest Blacks were serving penance for their sister's sins.

Always high-spirited, Andromeda character had taken a turn for the worse after her mother's death. Poised on the cusp of adulthood, she was at the perfect age for testing limits- limits which grief-stricken Orion refused to enforce.

Lucius couldn't count the number of times he had overheard his mother gossiping with her friends. There wasn't any sort of trouble that Andromeda seemed able to avoid: boys, hexes, illegal potions. She left Hogwarts after fifth year and, to no one's surprise, was pregnant by the time she turned seventeen.

Perhaps if word of the situation hadn't leaked out, the baby would have been quietly disposed of, or Andromeda would have been sent away to keep things quiet until it was born, but fate had finally intervened. The Black family's name and influence had pulled Andromeda out of harm's way time and again, but there was no way that the family could support an effort to extract her from her latest disaster. Word of her pregnancy had come, quite unfortunately, by appearance of the name "Nymphadora" on the family tree hanging at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, home of the London Blacks. Its mistress, Mrs. Agrippina Black was completely incapable of discretion. She burst into Orion Black's office at the Wizengamut and demanded to know what would be done. Stunned, he had answered as best he could: that whomever the rapscallion was that had impregnated his daughter, he would be _made_ to marry his little girl. After a vow made in front of so many witnesses, he had no choice but to hold true to his word- even when the offender turned out to be no more than a half-blood conductor on the Knight Bus.

Andromeda had been disowned. There had really been no alternative, lest the Blacks resign their entire family to perpetual disgrace. Orion had gone along with it at the insistence of his brother and his wife, but the effort sapped what little spirit remained. He inflicted draconian controls on his remaining two daughters could do, and then quietly buried himself beneath a mountain of work in the wizarding courts.

Lucius was frankly astonished that the Bellatrix received permission to remain at home alone for Christmas while her father was abroad- and even more astounded that Rodolphus was allowed to visit. Then it hit him: "You're giving her a ring, aren't you?"

Rodolphus looked at his feet. "Well, it won't change things much anyhow, will it? You're always joking that I'm as good as married as it is." 

Lucius sighed and bit back all the cutting remarks that he had prepared on the subject, grudgingly admitting to himself that his friend was mostly correct. Rodolphus already bore the burden of serving as Bella's _de facto_ spouse. He might as well entitle himself to the benefits as well.

"I really want to do it over Christmas. Bella will be miffish if I leave her for the holidays, but I don't want to miss our sport. There's wonderful Dervish Pixie hunting at Ravensden, and Mr. Black's library is legendary, there-"

"There's something you aren't telling me." Lucius interrupted, eyes narrowed suspiciously on his friend.

"What?" Rodolphus held his smile, but Lucius could see a glimmer of nervousness in his eyes.

"There's something else. If you're so happy to finally be alone and cosy with Bella it seems odd that you'd invite along a third wheel."

"Ah. Well." As Lucius suspected, Rodolphus lowered his gaze. "Her little sister will be there too."

"And I'm meant to keep her distracted while you and Bellatrix sneak away."

"Oh, it wouldn't be hard. You know Narcissa. She's happier curled up with a spellbook than entertaining company. I doubt you'll have to say more than two words to her."

Lucius did _not _know Narcissa, at least not anymore, but nothing that Rodolphus said implied much difference from how she had been when he had seen her last. "I wonder what's she like now?" Lucius mused aloud. "She must be…seventeen?"

Rodolphus nodded. "She's just finished at Beauxbatons."

Malfoy nodded, remembering that the little girl had been sent abroad. He tried to picture her in his mind, finding it surprisingly difficult to remember the details of her face. She had blue eyes, he recalled, and dark blonde hair that had seemed out of place on a Black. "Is she pretty?" He asked, without meaning to.

Rodolphus bit his lip. "She's Bella's sister, isn't she?"

Lucius dipped his chin in acknowledgement. It didn't really matter, did it? Surely the girl would be pleasant enough to sit with for a few hours while Bellatrix and Rodolphus saw to their private affairs? He didn't really want to go abroad on his own, and after the news of Rodolphus's pending nuptials- Lucius had no doubt that his mother would know before even Bellatrix herself- a holiday at home would be intolerable. He wouldn't be able to sit in peace for three minutes without being plagued to answer when he was going to get married as well. "I suppose I could stay for a while."

..ooOOoo..

Rodolphus hadn't technically lied.

It was indisputable that Narcissa was Bellatrix's sister. The stature of the young women, as well as the haughty tilt of their chins was virtually identical, and the expressions on their aristocratic faces as they looked down from the front door toward their arrivals, clearly belonged to the "Ladies of the Manor." However, that was where the resemblance broke down.

Bellatrix was a woman often described as "lush". Full hipped, pouty lipped and composed of vividly contrasting colors- ebony hair, ivory skin, chocolate eyes and crimson lips- she had caught more than one eye in Slytherin house. Her clothes were less elaborate than those typically worn by ladies of her circle, but simple garments suited her. Her finely boned face and impressive figure required little enhancement.

Narcissa, on the other hand was...Lucius tried not to stare at the girl too obviously as he struggled to put his first impression into words. She wasn't ugly. That was something Black blood probably didn't permit, but she lacked any hint of refinement and her beauty regime appeared cursory at best.

She was clean. He would give her that. The hair that hung raggedly over her eyes and shoulders was greaseless and she smelled like soap, but that appeared to be the extent of her efforts. He couldn't even tell that a comb had been drawn through the wavy locks. They were twisted into a bun, stuck through with a quill and quirked off in odd angles as if they'd been allowed to dry just as they were.

There were glimmerings of the little girl that he remembered. He saw them strongest in her eyes- crystal blue almonds that peeked out from behind the mop like patches of summer sky, although even these were now glassed off behind a pair of thick, dark spectacles. Most everything else had changed. The gold in her hair had faded to a dull, mousy brown. Her figure was indiscernible beneath tent-like puce robes, and her skin was markedly pale. She put Lucius in mind of a garden that had been left to seed, still lovely in her way, but wild. The roses in her cheeks and lips and the two tiny rows of pearl-white teeth were nearly lost behind the gnarled vines of her hair.

"You remember Narcissa, Luc?" Bellatrix's half-hearted introduction tore Lucius's gaze away.

He nodded his head, slowly. "Of course."

Narcissa didn't curtsey. She inclined her chin in his general direction, and then stared over his head.

"Won't you come inside?" Bellatrix asked, gracefully stepping aside to grant Rodolphus and Lucius entrance to the house. Narcissa held her ground.

"I'll just wait here for Augustus." The younger girl said lightly, and Bellatrix rolled her eyes.

"Mr. Rookwood is perfectly capable of knocking on the door." She snapped, making a point of slamming the door behind their guests. "And he can give father's post to the elf. I say Cissy you'll scare him off mooning after him, and then Papa will come back."

"Maybe I want him to come back." Narcissa said, hands resting on the location that her hips should be beneath the vast and shapeless dress, "And I'm _not_ mooning."

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. Narcissa answered by sticking out her tongue- a bit of appallingly immature behaviour which did nothing to enhance her charms in Lucius's eyes.

Pointedly ignoring her sister, Bellatrix directed some house elves to retrieve the gentlemen's bags and led them into the house. "Are you hungry? Tired? I thought we'd dine early tonight. You'll be tired from your journey and wanting bed."

"It's just a simple Apparation, Bella." Rodolphus said, cluelessly. Lucius, however, noticed that she hadn't mentioned _sleep._

"You haven't been here in a long time, have you Malfoy?" The eldest Miss Black said, finally stopping in front of a heavy panelled door. Pushing it open, she revealed a comfortable gaming room. Wizarding chess was set beside a roaring fire while a billiards table and other amusements were placed about the room. The air of the enclave was faintly perfumed with pipe tobacco, reminding them that this was not a place that ladies were meant to be. However, Bellatrix plopped onto a chaise in a familiar manner and Narcissa, still sulking, scuttled off to a pillow in the corner in a manner that confirmed this was their usual haunt. "What do you think? Is it how you remembered?" 

Lucius nodded to Bellatrix, surprised to realize that it was. Not a single painting seemed to have been rearranged since Mrs. Black's funeral more than a decade before. It was still grand but, like the youngest Black daughter, it was permeated with an air of neglect.

"Quite." Lucius answered simply. Rodolphus had also dropped into the chaise, pulling Bella into his lap and Narcissa was quite absorbed in a book she picked up from beside her tufted nest. He settled onto the edge of a sofa and began a half-hearted conversation with Bellatrix on their memories of summers past. Before long, his interest waned. Rodolphus and his soon-to-be fiancé dismissed themselves for a "walk around the grounds" leaving Narcissa and Lucius alone.

If Narcissa noticed her sister's departure, she gave no sign. She was entirely captivated by her book, a raggedy tome which Lucius expected to be a novel but, which he discovered upon closer examination, was actually: "_Most Potente Potions_". He felt a surge of excitement. There was a Veritaserum potion in the volume that he'd give his right arm to have access to. _Polyjuice__, Invisibility Serum_…His mind raced with the possibilities. Hogwarts had one of the few copies in circulation, though none of the teachers had let him near it while he was in school. He had inquired discreetly about obtaining it on his own, but had been unsuccessful. Lucius was aware that Mr. Black was reputed to have an extensive library- but he couldn't imagine his luck!

What in the world did Narcissa want with the book though? Lucius frowned, trying to puzzle it out. He was about to ask her, or at least to wander closer so that he might see which potion had earned so much attention when Narcissa suddenly stiffened and jumped to her feet. She closed the book with a loud clap , miniaturized it, and slid it into the pocket of her robes. "I'll get it!!!" She yelped to no one in particular, and then darted from the room.

Surprised by her sudden departure, and having nothing better to do, he followed her back out of the room, letting the patter of her footsteps lead him back to the front of the house.

The knocker sounded loudly- Lucius assumed this was what had drawn Narcissa from her book. The heavy rap implied that the caller was angry. He or she had been left in the cold too long.

An elf was standing next the door, fingers twitching as if it would love to fling the portal open, but a glare from Narcissa sent it dashing off back into the house. Lucius watched, unseen, as Narcissa took off her glasses and slid them into a pocket of her robes. She smoothed her unkempt hair, unbuttoned the collar on the awful dress, and then opened the door with a flourish. "Why, Mr. Rookwood," She said in a tone that was trying too hard to be musical. "What a pleasant surprise!"

"Surprise?"

Lucius had been at school with Augustus Rookwood, though they had never truly been friends. The older boy, middle son of a mid-level Ministry official, was not quite up to snuff as a member of Malfoy's circle, though he understood that Rookwood had done well for himself since leaving school. Rookwood had studied wizarding law as a clerk to Orion Black, and was a researcher and advisory counsellor now for the Wizengamut. Lucius heard murmurings that Augustus, with Black's backing, was being considered for a high and secretive position at the ministry, though to Malfoy's way of thinking, he was still little more than a lackey for now.

_Obviously a self-important lackey_, Lucius thought to himself as he observed the man's interaction with Narcissa Black. It was just about painfully obvious that the girl was completely smitten with him. It was hard to conceive how she could possibly be more obvious without wearing a flashing badge.

"Well, did anything come in the post?"

"No," Narcissa gave an apologetic sigh. "Is there anything to drop off?"

"Only these." Rookwood pressed a bundle of parchments into Narcissa's hands. "They've all been seen to except the Everwand verdict. You _are_ going to get these too him today?"

"He's flooing at nine."

"Fine. Until tomorrow then." Rookwood said brusquely, turning toward the door so swiftly that his cloak swirled around him in the air.

"Tomorrow." Narcissa answered breathily, following him with her eyes. She was standing so close to the door that she shook when it slammed in Rookwood's wake.

For a moment Narcissa remained just staring at the door. Her back was toward Lucius so that he couldn't see her face. He could imagine, however, the dreamy look that he was sure was on her face. He felt a surge of something unpleasant, like a bad taste rising to his mouth and he grimaced.

Lucius couldn't stop a sarcastic clap. "Well, that certainly went well."

Narcissa spun around, cheeks flaming. She fumbled for her glasses and settled them on the bridge of her nose. Her glare might have been a match for Bella's if it hadn't been distorted through half an inch of convex glass.

"You know." Lucius drawled as he stepped closer, audaciously picking up one of the scrolls meant for Narcissa's father and reading the address, "You might get a better response if you combed your hair."

Narcissa's fingers instantly reached for the flyaway strands of her tresses, raking through them in a panic. She caught herself, however, and scowled at him. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Mr. Malfoy." She said, hefting her chin.

"I'm sure you don't." He purred, quite amused by her defiance. "Which is why Mr. Rookwood doesn't give you the time of day."

"I've never asked him the time of day!" Narcissa hissed back, unable to stop herself. Her hands were clenching and unclenching at her side, making more wrinkles in her already rumpled dress.

"Don't you mean time of night?" He teased.

Narcissa made a little shriek of frustration and whirled around. "Goodbye, Mr. Malfoy!" she hissed, and then stalked away, not to be seen again for the rest of the night.

When Lucius discovered that he'd been assigned to Andromeda's old quarters- the suite adjacent to Narcissa's room- he had to roll his eyes. He'd hoped that Rodolphus's motives in dragging him to Cornwall had been as pure as they seemed: to create a distraction while Lestrange and Bellatrix slipped away. Now Lucius wasn't so sure that his friend wasn't plotting something more- perhaps entertaining a hope that he wasn't the only one to tie the knot that year. Lucius could almost believe that his mother had a hand in the outing- she _had_ seemed remarkably calm when he announced that he wouldn't be spending Christmas at home- but the very notion that he might fall for Narcissa Black was absurd. Lucius liked women. Lucius _adored_ them in fact, but only collectively or for less than twelve hours at a stretch. If they thought that the wild-haired terror he had met this afternoon was going to change his mind than they were clearly deranged.

It wasn't that Narcissa was _so_ ugly, he mused as he laid back in his canopied bed and tried not to think about how many Mudbloods Andromeda might have entertained there. She could be pretty-ish if she tried. He assumed that somewhere under the mop of horrid hair there was a face rather like her sisters. When she was little- far too little for him to have noticed- the older women had cooed over her, claiming that she was the loveliest of all three girls. Even beyond here appearance, there was something vaguely attractive. She was interesting- a trait that he hadn't used to describe a woman in far, far too long…not that it mattered. Lucius shook off the memory of her cornflower eyes and concentrate on something more deserving of his notice: the book.

After dinner, Lucius gave himself permission to explore the house. He located the library with little effort. It was an impressive, enormous room at the end of the East Wing with wide bay windows, stacks that stretched two stories, an impressive desk and a large fireplace…and absolutely no sign of a dark arts collection whatsoever.

At first, he couldn't believe it. He didn't precisely expect books on Necromancy and Forbidden Curses to be on full display, but he found it dumbfounding that Orion Black didn't seem to possess even a primer on elementary hexes, alchemy or others of the "Grey" arts. After nearly an hour of fruitless searching (at least there were no _Muggle_ books. He didn't think that he would ever wash the taint of _A Tale of Two Cities _out of his mind!) Lucius concluded that there was a separate stash elsewhere in the house.

He could have asked Bellatrix about them outright, but when he hinted casually at dinner that he was looking for a book on Voodoo (innocent enough, all things considered), she replied that her father had one but she hadn't the faintest idea where.

"They're locked up somewhere, I think. Maybe under the house. He doesn't want us in them." She said, frowning. Something in her look made Lucius remember the gossip surrounding an Earth elemental that Bella had accidentally summoned during summer holidays after sixth year. No doubt access to the books had been severely curtailed after that. Still, Narcissa obviously knew how to get them. Perhaps she was worth watching after all.

Surprisingly, considering his restless thoughts, Lucius slept well. When he appeared for breakfast in the morning, Narcissa was nowhere in sight. "Probably out in the conservatory." Bellatrix said, arching an eyebrow as if she was surprised that Lucius had asked. "We won't see her again until time for Rookwood to come."

At the mention of the name, she and Rodolphus shared a condescending laugh.

But Narcissa wasn't there when Lucius looked for her. After Bellatrix and Rodolphus disappeared for their afternoon "Walk" he settled in the front hall, waiting for the youngest Black to appear again.

Precisely as it had the evening before, the doorknocker sounded a few minutes after five. The house was very still. Then, just before Lucius rose to go and answer the door himself, he heard a flurry of footsteps on the stairs. He had only a moment to secrete himself in a cloak alcove beside the stairs. He was just in time to see Narcissa whip past, and to note that something seemed odd about her before she answered the door.

"Mr. Rookwood." She said. Lucius could hear the smile on her face, even if he couldn't see it with his eyes.

"Hello, Miss Black." Rookwood said curtly, all business as he had the evening before. "Is there-?" Amazingly, he paused. The silence was so surprising that Lucius peeked his head out to look. Rookwood looked rather puzzled by something, and finally blurted. "You're looking well this afternoon, Miss Black."

"Oh, its nothing." Narcissa answered breathlessly. Before she could say more, Rookwood dropped the evening's pile of parchment in her hand.

"Good afternoon, Miss Black." He said hurriedly, and then he was gone again.

"Well, wasn't that sweet enough to rot teeth." Lucius snarled as he strode forward. The surprise of his sudden appearance caused Narcissa to jump. She spun toward him.

"Mr. Malfoy!" She gasped. "What are you doing here?"

"I don't have to ask the same of you, do I?" He said in return, finally getting a chance to look her up and down and struggling to disguise his own shock at what he saw.

Narcissa had carefully brushed her hair into a ponytail at the base of her neck. The change was simple, but profound. Tamed into smoothness, the murky brown hair had a golden gleam that seemed especially pronounced in the fine hairs that framed her face. With the waves pulled off of her face and her glasses mysteriously missing, her features were finally visible.

She really was quite stunning. He had noticed straight away that her eyes were extraordinary but, finally exposed, he could see that her bone structure was every bit as fine as her sister's. Her high cheekbones were flushed a happy pink, her nose was small and straight, and her mouth was like a little strawberry: plump and red and sweet, twisted in a radiant if crooked smile.

"It worked!"

Without preamble, the remarks didn't immediately make sense. The euphoric look on Narcissa's face, however, jogged his memory. "Rookwood." He growled.

"Yes!" Narcissa clapped her hands together and swung around, the loose folds of her oversized robes fanning out around her, "Did you hear him?"

"He said 'Good Afternoon'"

"No! Before that." Her eyes took on a distant look as she sighed, "_You're looking well this afternoon, Miss Black."_

Lucius rather thought she might faint from joy. If she did, he was certain that _he_ would be sick. "Quite the Casanova."

"I think he was sweet!" Narcissa defended. She looked as if she was going to tell him off for being so cross, but then her expression changed. "Thank you."

"Thank you?" Now Lucius was confused again.

"For your advice!" Narcissa gestured toward her hair. "It worked!"

Lucius shifted uncomfortably, "All I said was to comb your hair…"

"And it worked! He noticed me! He said my name."

Lucius decided not to point out that he had called her "Miss Black"- a name equally applicable to any woman living in the manor.

"He hasn't ever said my name before."

Lucius didn't know what to say to that. It seemed rather inconceivable to him that Narcissa would waste so much time on a man who was, clearly, a buffoon. "Well, congratulations. What would you like for a wedding gift?" He quipped.

Narcissa missed the sarcasm. "Oh, I hardly think he wants to marry me…yet." She pressed the lips together thoughtfully. "Unless…"

Lucius was certain that he wouldn't like what she was about to say. This sentiment turned out to be prescient.

"Unless you helped me out!"

"Helped you?" Lucius scrunched his features in distaste. He didn't "help". It was not in his nature.

"Yes!" Narcissa's face was more animated than he had ever seen it before. It seemed lit from within as she began to chatter: "You must know lots about attracting men, I mean-" Her flush deepened as she realized that this could be misinterpreted, "since you are one and all. You know what makes a girl stand out."

"And?"

"And you could teach me!" Narcissa paused a moment, eyeing him hopefully.

"Teach you?" Lucius said in a tone that implied what he thought of the idea: that it was preposterous!

"There's loads I don't know. I mean, there's the hair, obviously." She admitted with a shrug, "And…I don't know. Flirting? Clearly I'm hopeless at that!"

Lucius felt uneasiness dripping through him. "Surely your mother taught you those things?"

_No, of course she hadn't_. Lucius regretted the words as soon as he had said them. He remembered that Mrs. Black had died when her youngest daughter was still a tiny girl. Surely that was the root of Narcissa's shortcomings? Her other family members were too wrapped up in their own lives to teach Narcissa any of the things that they needed to know. It was no wonder that she was so unpolished and awkward…which wasn't to say that Lucius felt he should be the one to rectify matters! He cleared his throat.

"That is to say- I hardly think I'm the best person to address those issues. I didn't come here to-"

"What _did_ you come here for?" Narcissa interrupted, her tone clearly stung.

"I wondered if you would do me a favour."

"_Help_ you?" Narcissa said, arching a brow that reminded him he had just denied her own request.

"Yes, well. It's a small thing. It doesn't require any effort on your part. I was just wondering…" He took a breath, annoyed that the previous exchange had made this request so awkward. "That is…could you tell me where you got that book you were reading yesterday."

"Book? What book?" Narcissa's words were innocent, but her expression was guilty.

Lucius frowned. "_Most Potente Potions._" He reminded, frowning. "You were reading it in the library."

"No I wasn't!" Narcissa answered quickly, so transparently lying that Lucius would have laughed if he wasn't so annoyed.

"I suppose I imagined it then." He glared at her, holding her gaze until she finally broke. "I really _can't _help you Mr. Malfoy….surely _your father_ could help you with something like that."

The way that Narcissa flung his own words back at him triggered a fierce frown, swiftly followed by a twinge of admiration. She might not have gone to Hogwarts, but this little Black was the equal to any Slytherin. She wouldn't give him something for nothing.

"Very well." Lucius frowned. "Perhaps you might remember if I considered your offer?"

_It wasn't good enough_. She continued to frown, but Lucius could see that she was ready to deal. "Perhaps if you _accepted_ my offer then I _might _be able to jog my memory."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then even if you find the books, you'll never get them without my help."

"Books?" Lucius was practically salivating as he imagined the volumes that Orion Black must have stashed away.

"_Books_." Narcissa confirmed, holding his gaze. "More than you can read in a lifetime." She quoted a few titles to tempt him.

For one long minute neither spoke, but finally the silence broke. "Deal." Lucius said. "When can I see them?"

"When do lessons begin?"

She drove a ridiculously hard bargain, but Lucius had no choice but to concede. "Tomorrow morning." He finally answered.

"Ten-thirty in the Ballroom." Narcissa nodded. "Don't be late."

..ooOOoo..

Lucius _was_ late, of course. He couldn't permit himself to be bossed around by a little slip of a girl, even if she was a Black, but the tactic nearly backfired when he entered the ballroom at Ten-fifty and saw that Narcissa was nowhere to be found.

He waited for a while, seething over the fact that she wasn't there. It galled him that she would have the audacity to be late...or was it possible that she had already left? Could she have forgotten? Feeling steadily more ridiculous, Lucius lingered in the ballroom for another ten minutes before storming out, determined to find the wretched whelp and remind her why Malfoys were never made to wait. He found her in the breakfast room, drinking milky tea and perusing the morning paper as if nothing was at all was wrong.

Narcissa glanced up as he entered the room, but appeared unperturbed. She took a bite of muffin and a bit of strawberry jam clung to her cheek, arousing the strange urge to wipe it off. Her hair was unkempt again- _of course_, Lucius thought with a sigh- and her tiny hands were smudged with ink, giving the impression that she had been up half-the night copying down text. The entire affect was so adorable that Malfoy almost forgot why he was cross with her.

_Almost.___

He cleared his throat and waited for Narcissa to acknowledge him. "Good morning, Mr. Malfoy." She said at length, and then popped the last bit of muffin in her mouth, swallowing it down with a sip of tea.

He didn't want to say "good morning" back, so he simply glowered at her. "Is something the matter, Mr. Malfoy?" She asked, turning the page of the Prophet so that he could see she had been reading the Agony Aunt section "Dear Cassandra".

"I think you know." He answered stonily, fingers still twitching to wipe away the jam.

Narcissa's eyes were all innocent. "I'm afraid I don't."

"I thought we had an appointment." Lucius said tightly.

Narcissa's lips pressed into a line. "I thought we did too." She said at length, "_At ten-thirty_."

_So, she had been there_. Lucius felt slightly vindicated, but not enough to soften his frown. "I was there at ten thirty five." He lied. "_You_ were not."

"Our appointment was at ten-thirty." Narcissa answered with a dismissive shrug.

"You could have waited."

"Blacks do not wait."

She sounded so much like Lucius's own inner monologue had that had he been an impartial observer, he would have laughed. Malfoy, however, merely bristled. "Neither do Malfoys!"

"Then they ought to learn to be prompt!" Lucius opened his mouth, willing something clever and scathing to fall out, but for the first time in recent memory, wit failed him.

There was a long pause (during which Narcissa, quite maddeningly, buttered another crumpet and poured more tea) before she finally spoke again, "If you aren't otherwise engaged, perhaps you'd care to go forward with the lesson's now?"

He wanted to say "no", but he wanted the book as well and so he sat angrily into the chair. "Lesson one." He growled, "Men don't like to be contradicted."

Narcissa's lips quirked in amusement, "I shall endeavour to remember that." He didn't quite trust her sudden docility, certain that she was about to add: "_Or make it a point not to speak to conceited prats_." But she didn't. She merely let him think it and went on with her breakfast, popping a raspberry into her mouth.

Lucius watched her eat the small fruit, mesmerized by the way her tongue lapped at the corners of her mouth. She didn't have on any makeup, but her lips were nearly as dark and as red as the berry. He was staring again. He didn't realize it until he caught Narcissa staring back, her head quirked questioningly to the side.

"You've got jam on your cheek." He muttered quickly to cover the mistake. Narcissa lifted her napkin, dabbing at the wrong cheek. "No, here." Lucius plucked the napkin out of her fingers. Then, to their mutual astonishment, he wiped the smear away himself.

From the instant that he touched her skin, Lucius knew that he had made a mistake. He felt an odd sensation that started in his fingertips but ended somewhere in the pit of his stomach. It was fluttery and pulsing, like he had touched his hand to an electric current and couldn't pull it away. He wondered if Narcissa felt it too because her enormous blue eyes fixed on his face and seemed to grow larger.

He held her gaze for a long, breathless moment, paralyzed and faintly panicked by his inability to discover what was going on. He wasn't attracted to her! The very notion was ridiculous!

"Oh, there you are Luc!" Bellatrix's voice suddenly filled the room, luckily managing to sever the odd connection that had been forged. Lucius dropped his hand guiltily and spun to face her. "Rodolphus is looking for you. He wants to go kill birds or something." She said in a clearly annoyed tone. "He's in the conservatory waiting. You don't have to sit here with Cissy any more."

Lucius couldn't feel Narcissa's eyes on his skin. He assumed that she had already folded back into herself, staring down into her tea as Bella sucked the air out of the room. He wouldn't ordinarily have cared, but he had started to feel…_sympathy._ Lucius smiled in relief. _Of course!_ That was what he was feeling! He was sorry for her! She had been practically left to raise herself: a dead mother, a distracted failure, a sister who belittled and ignored her at every turn. The realization strengthened him.

"Actually, I'll have to send my regrets. Narcissa and I have plans."

"Oh?" The look of disbelief on Bella's face was cruel, and he suddenly hoped that Narcissa _was_ looking down so that she wouldn't see. Why should Bellatrix be so amazed? Narcissa _was_ a Black. That hardly put her beneath his notice! In fact, her name and pretty face could go rather far in the circles in which they moved. Bellatrix, however, seemed not to have realized this. She continued to gape for several seconds before her mouth shifted into a knowing "O". "So, she's uncovered the dirt on you too? The little sneak…Still putting the 'Black' in blackmail, Cissy?" She ignored Narcissa's indignant huff, "Don't worry, Luc. She's pants at everything but potions. Just mind what you drink and she's harmless."

Lucius frowned and narrowed his eyes rather coolly, "I don't know what you're going on about, Bellatrix. Narcissa was just going to show me around the house…if you would excuse us?" He wasn't certain that Narcissa was finished with breakfast. However, she seemed to pick up what he intended, and rose from her chair, chin raised.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy. I believe you wanted to see the galleries." And they drifted from the room.

Lucius didn't trust himself to put his arm through Narcissa's own. In fact, he didn't even know what had raised the thought in his mind- they were only walking through the house! Still, he felt the need to stuff his fists into his pockets. He wished that he had something to hold. His father had a very dashing walking stick that would come in quite useful at this moment.

They weren't really going to the gallery. Lucius remembered the house well enough to figure out that they were heading for the ballroom after all. They climbed to the first floor, wove through the servant's corridors and then entered from the rear, behind the raised box where the orchestra sat.

To Lucius's knowledge, the ballroom had not been used since Mrs. Black's passing. Although cleaning charms kept the floor and furniture spotless, the air was musty with disuse. Thick white canvas covered the chairs and furniture in the room, which looked as though it were ringed with snowdrifts.

A very dim light was filtering through the french doors at the far end of the room, but Narcissa swished her wand and a candelabra flared to life. She summoned two chairs and sat down in one, facing Lucius. She took out a quill and parchment. "Well?" She asked.

"Well?"

"The lessons?"

Lucius's mouth suddenly went very dry. He realized that he had promised to give lessons, but he hadn't given the first thought to what they would include. He couldn't just sit down and tell Narcissa all her flaws and shortcomings, could he?

He frowned and tried to avoid recognition of the fact that yes, ordinarily, he would. Lucius had never felt the need to sugar coat or avoid unpleasant truths. He preferred a direct approach, which was why the situation he suddenly found himself in was so awkward. His…_sympathy_…prevented him from telling Narcissa the whole truth.

She was still staring up at him expectantly, waiting for him to speak, and he felt the pressure build as time ticked past. What was she expecting of him? That seemed a reasonable place to start. He offered what he hoped was a detached but benevolent look. "What do you need to know?"

"Everything." Narcissa answered with a shrug.

"Everything?"

"Well, the hair yesterday was a start. More things like that."

"I see." He nodded, slightly relieved. If it was only her appearance that Narcissa was concerned about, he could probably help her. He didn't know much about shopping and cosmetics, but he knew what he liked when he saw it. "You ought to do your hair every morning, you know." He said frankly, "And you could really do with a trim."

"It hardly seems worth the bother." Narcissa frowned. "No one ever sees."

"Rookwood sees." Lucius contradicted, "I see. Your sister sees. Rodolphus sees- and don't you ever look in mirrors? Don't you want to look pretty for yourself?"

"For myself?" Narcissa's tone implied that this thought had never occurred to her, "Why would I want to do that?"

"It's a matter of self-respect." He said, losing his patience. "Besides, appearances carry a lot of weight. You have a very superior bloodline, Narcissa. You ought to look superior."

She arched her chin as if she was practicing snubbing a mudblood.

"It's not just that though." Lucius interjected. "You shouldn't have to say anything or to act any certain way. It ought to be obvious when you walk into a room that you are a lady of the highest order."

It was clear that Narcissa didn't know what he meant, so he sighed and moved back to a safe topic. "At any rate: your hair. You ought to get in the habit of styling it every morning- make the elves do it if you don't want to. You can sit still and read a book while they work. Do you have any magazines?"

Narcissa shifted uncomfortably, "Bella might."

"_Witch Weekly_ or _Spellbound_?" He named two of the periodicals that he noticed his ladyfriends reading. "We'll owl for copies tonight. They ought to have ideas for hair and clothes."

"Oh, I don't need any new clothes!" Narcissa said, improbably gesturing toward the deep red _sack_ that she was wearing. "Bella only bought this two years ago. It was very expensive, and it's hardly worn at all."

Lucius didn't try to understand her logic. She was the first female of his acquaintance who had ever denied a need for shopping. "Yes! I'm sure it was a lovely dress when she bought it, but you said it yourself- _Bellatrix_ bought it- and it's out of style. Red does nothing for you."

"I'll charm it green then." She said, flicking her wand at it in aggravation.

"Blue." Lucius countered almost as soon as her spell had taken effect. The heavy velvet of the gown didn't hold the charm well. There were blotches of crimson showing through. "And you need to buy dresses of your own if you want Rookwood to pay attention."

"Rookwood doesn't care what I'm wearing!" Narcissa insisted, crossing her arms in a manner which only emphasized that her sleeves were three inches too long. "He's very serious!"

"Has he asked you on a date?"

"No, but-"

"Then my point is proven."

"He hasn't failed to ask me out because of my dress!" Narcissa insisted stubbornly.

"It has to be that. What's not to love about your sweet retiring nature?" Lucius thrust back sarcastically.

To this, Narcissa only sniffed, and so he returned to his previous task of picking out her flaws, turning his attention to her owlish glasses, "Why haven't you gotten correcting charms?" He asked.

Narcissa shrugged, "It didn't seem worth the bother either. They're terribly expensive- and besides they only last a year."

Lucius sniffed at this explanation. True the temporary charm might cost a quarter of what an ordinary witch brought home in a year- but Narcissa was no ordinary witch! Having heard Rodolphus recount some of Bella's shopping sprees, he couldn't believe that Orion was depriving his daughter of access to funds. "You need to make an appointment immediately."

"But-"

"You asked for my advice." He pointed out smugly. "Besides, your eyes are your best feature."

The compliment silenced Narcissa where his barbs had not. She looked at her feet and the mood between them suddenly became uncomfortable.

"I'll see about the magazines." Lucius mumbled. "I'd better go see what Rodolphus wanted.

He was already to the conservatory before he realized that he had forgotten to ask after the book.

..ooOOoo..

That night, Narcissa didn't come to dinner. At breakfast the next morning Bella said that she had gone into town. "She was being so secretive!" Bellatrix said with a nasty smile on her face. "All she said was that she wanted to see about some shopping- probably working on that nasty potion of hers."

It was the second time that Bellatrix had mentioned her younger sister's penchant for potions. This time Lucius felt compelled to ask about it.

"Oh, Narcissa's always down in the dungeons brewing up something or another." She said dismissively, waving her hand in an elegant, affected manner which would have served to underscore her graceful beauty if she wasn't speaking in such a haughty tone. "She and that greasy little Snape boy are thick as thieves. He's convinced that he's working on a cure for lycanthropy and Cissy's brewing a love potion."

Lucius nearly choked on his tea. "A love potion?"

Bella arched an eyebrow and smirked, "Oh, Luc! Surely you've seen how she hovers around that ridiculous Rookwood. If he ever drops a hair in our front hall, he's done for. Cissa's tried everything. It's really pathetic."

Malfoy frowned, but covered the expression by taking another long draught of tea. At last Narcissa's obsession with _Most Potente Potions_ made sense. He was both concerned and puzzled: concerned because love potions were illegal (not that the illegality bothered him at all, so much that he worried that someone as naïve and inexperienced as Narcissa was almost certain to be caught) and puzzled because, to hear Bellatrix speak, her sister was very accomplished at potion making- why didn't it work?

He wanted to ask some more questions, but before he could an owl swooped in with the morning post.

"_Witch Weekly_, Lucius?" Rodolphus said, arching his eyebrow in a suggestive manner. "Getting in touch with your feminine side?"

Lucius stuffed the magazine into his lap and held his expression still, unwilling to show a reaction to the barb. "One of my friends is modelling."

"Oooh! Who?" Bella asked, suddenly interested, "It isn't that hideous Zabini girl is it? Oh, I'm sure it is- though she strikes me as more of a Page Thirteen girl."

Lucius stood abruptly, suddenly wanting to rid himself of the magazines as soon as possible. "I just remembered…." He said quickly, "I left my elf ironing his ears."

He headed down the hall to his room, shoved the _Witch Weekly _under the door and then went for a walk into the neighbouring village until time for tea.

Five o'clock arrived was no sign of Narcissa. Lucius was becoming anxious. One of the elves told Malfoy that she had returned to the house, but she hadn't made an appearance all day. He wasn't certain if their lessons were meant to continue, but he had spent the better part of the morning planning what to teach her next.

Lucius admitted that Narcissa's artlessness was a part of her charm- but he doubt that it would work with Rookwood. Augustus fancied himself an "up and comer" and his chief interest in Narcissa would, romantic notions set aside, be her pedigree and connections. Malfoy would advise her to play up both.

The Rhys-Boomslangs were hosting a Christmas party at their estate the following weekend. Lord Rhys-Boomslang was the Deputy Minister, and all of the senior officials would attend- and be expected to lodge an appearance. Of course Narcissa and her sister would be invited. They were old enough that they would be expected to bring dates. Bellatrix would take Rodolphus, but Narcissa had no one to ask. Rookwood was the perfect choice. Greedily upward-mobile he would probably like nothing more than a chance to hobnob with his superiors. It wasn't hard to be charming at a ball. If Lucius put Narcissa in a pretty dress and set his mother's stylist to do her hair, there was no reason that she couldn't keep Augustus entertained.

Lucius was still pondering these thoughts when the sound of the doorknocker echoed through the front of the house. He sat on the steps, not even planning to hide his presence that afternoon, but was surprised when the expected flurry of footsteps never came.

The pounding on the door was repeated. A few moments later, it sounded again, angrier now.

Finally, when the doorknob began to rattle, Lucius nodded to the elf that was hovering nervously just out of sight. With an obsequious bow, the little creature swung the door open. As expected, Rookwood was on the other side.

"Blasted, worthless creatures." Rookwood thundered as he stepped into the room, sending the elf sailing against the wall. A light snow was falling, and he shook the flakes off his cloak before looking around, puzzled.

"What are you doing here?" He asked suspiciously.

Lucius gave him a tight, chilly smile and ignored the question, "Ah, Mr. Rookwood. It's good to see you too." He said silkily. "I see your working for Mr. Black now. You're his…secretary?"

"Research assistant." Rookwoods's dark eyes narrowed.

"Ah. Yes. Something like that. I knew it had to do with running errands." It felt exquisitely satisfying to launch the cruel little barbs, though Augustus looked annoyed rather than abashed. "I suppose you're coming to pick up the post?"

"Yes." Rookwood grunted, "One of the Miss Black's usually has them ready for me."

Lucius was about to call for Narcissa when his eyes landed on a neatly stacked pile of parchments from the door. He glanced at the elf, who nodded, then went to pick them up. There was no reason that he couldn't give Rookwood the post himself. After all, if Narcissa wanted to be seen she would have made an appearance by now. "Mr. Black wanted you to take care of these." He said. "Is there anything else?"

"No. Nothing." Rookwood's gaze swept toward the staircase again, but he said nothing more. He tipped his hat and was about to take his leave when inspiration struck.

"Say, Rookwood. Who are you taking to the Rhys-Boomslang ball next week?" He asked, trying to sound friendly even though he knew that the other man had not been invited.

"I don't know." Augustus answered, unwilling to rise to Malfoy's bait.

It didn't matter. Lucius was interested in only one thing. "I had thought of taking Narcissa Black, myself…but I had a prior engagement." Half of it was true. He had promised Kitty Slater weeks ago that he would accompany her. "You don't think you could manage it do you- as a favour to her father…since you don't already have a date?"

He could almost hear the gears turning in Rookwood's head as the thoughts trickled through his mind: He had a chance to attend the ball. He would be saddled with Narcissa, but that barely seemed to matter. She _was_ his employer's daughter- and besides, she was a pureblood of the highest order. No one would think that he actually had any interest in her. Besides, Lucius Malfoy had considered asking her himself…

"I suppose I could." Rookwood finally said. "As a favour."

"Naturally." He was rather annoyed at the other man's choice to underscore that he didn't care about Narcissa as a woman, but he let it slide. Narcissa would be ecstatic. "I'll tell her you asked then?"

"Fine."

Lucius could see that Rookwood was second guessing his choice, so he quickly said goodbye before there was a chance to change his mind. He waited until the clerk was completely gone before he started for the stairs to tell Narcissa the news.

__

_Something was wrong_. He could feel it. It didn't make sense for the youngest Black sister to miss the highlight of her day. Pace quickening, he mounted the stairs.

At first, he thought that the elf had lied about Miss Black being home. Narcissa didn't seem to be in her room. Then, as he was about to walk away, he heard sniffling in the en suite bathroom. He strode toward it, knocked, and waited for a reply.

"G-go away!" Narcissa blubbered back, but Lucius ignored her, pushed the door open and burst inside.

He wanted to laugh. He _would_ have laughed if not for the tragic expression on the young girl's face. Narcissa was standing in the middle of a pile of cosmetics and hair styling utensils which would have put the entire collection of the Slytherin girl's dormitory to shame. Open boxes were strewn across the floor, and one of the _Witch Weekly's_ that he'd delivered was lying open on the edge of the tub.

Narcissa had clearly been trying out some of the suggestions. Her legs (exposed by tucked-up skirts) looked silky smooth and her nails were neatly filed. The rest of her efforts had not fared so well.

It wasn't _just_ that some sort of charm was making Narcissa's eyebrows grow across her face, so thick and bushy that her eyes could not be seen, or even the hideous stench of "Eau de Bog" which she had clearly purchased in the hag aisle by mistake. The most comical sight was the curling wand which was stuck in a huge mat of hair on the top of her head, wagging as her neck bobbled up and down in cadence with her sobs.

He forced himself not to break a smile, but hurried forward, wand drawn. "_Finite Incantatuem."_He said, touching it to her forehead and easily reversing the eyebrow spell. The smell of the cologne would have to dissipate on its own, and there was no help for the styling wand apart from disentangling it, strand by strand, out of the top of her hair. He set straight to work, scrubbing her wrists and neck, Disapparating the bottle, and then beginning to pick at her hair. Narcissa was crying so hard that she barely noticed.

"Whatever were you trying to do, Narcissa?" Lucius asked in a patient tone as he worked.

Narcissa sniffed before she replied: "I…I was trying to do what you said- to get an idea from the magazines."

Now that she was looking up, he could see that she had managed to paint one of her eyes. A blue black ring of eyeshadow and mascara covered half her face. "_W-witch Weekly _is a r-rag." She gestured at the open page: "_Spellbinding Hair! Updos that will take Him Down_!" it chirped next to a picture of a svelte redheaded witch with perfect sausage curls on top of her head.

This time, Lucius couldn't help a chuckle. "Perhaps." He said. "But maybe you should have started with something easier?" He'd send for one of his mother's elves in the morning. Evelyn would be glad to help. She'd probably think that Lucius wanted Narcissa to look pretty for _him_ and send two!

At last, the curling wand began to ease free from her hair. He tugged it the rest of the way out, then picked up a nearby brush and began to smooth the knots. "Don't cry." He soothed, "I have some exciting news."

"W-what?" Narcissa said, peeking up at him through the nest of knotted fringe.

"You, _ma chere_, have a date."

"A date?" The look in her eyes most resembled panic.

"A date…" Lucius paused dramatically, "…With Augustus Rookwood."

TO BE CONTINUED

**Comments welcomed, as usual. This story is already finished, but the other chapters are being edited. Therefore I may not be able to incorporate all suggestions into this particular story, but I will read and consider them all! Thanks for reading!**

**BTW- Longtime readers may notice that my other stories are gone from For version control and other reasons, they have all been moved to the webpages noted on my bio page.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

She had spent years scheming and daydreaming. Of course, Narcissa never expected her efforts at getting Rookwood to notice her would actually work!

"Well?" Lucius was wearing an odd expression that reminded her that she had taken too long to answer. "I thought you'd be pleased."

"I am pleased!" Narcissa blurted, flushing furiously. "But…why?"

Lucius arched a brow, suddenly aloof and disdainful. "One would assume he looks forward to your company.

_Then one would be wrong, _Narcissa thought, but didn't say. Instead, she simply looked skeptical. She wondered why Lucius even cared. Her expression softened as she worked things out. "Your book." She said softly.

"What?" Lucius's brow furrowed.

"The book. You've earned it. Wait a moment and I'll get it." She said, and then darted back into her room.

The elves had come to clean while she was closeted in the bathroom, and had tidied up the magazines and beauty supplies that had been strewn across the floor. They had pulled the curtains shut against the evening sun, bathing the room in cool, deep shadows.

Narcissa was glad for the darkness. She didn't want to catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror. It wasn't just that she knew that after her beautifying disaster that she must look a fright. She was frightfully certain that she was wearing a disappointed frown, and she couldn't quite figure out why that might be. She had fancied, just for a moment, that Malfoy had wanted to help her with Rookwood because he actually cared about helping and not just for the potions text. Of course there was no reason for that to be. There was no satisfactory explanation for why it might upset her so.

Lucius _didn't _care. He didn't like her. She wasn't even sure that he liked Bellatrix, but he tolerated them both as a favor to his friend. Any interest that her showed in the youngest Black was either feigned or forced. So, of course he could only want something in return for his help.

Narcissa couldn't work out how she felt about Lucius Malfoy. He wasn't quite what she expected: a larger version of the arrogant, bullying boy she recalled from the days when her mother as still alive. She had cringed at the announcement that he was coming for Christmas- but Rodolphus wanted him to come, and Bella wanted to please Rodolphus, and –even if the Black Magic spellbooks were hidden- Narcissa was far too sensible to cross her older sister.

In any event, time had improved the Malfoy heir. The loud posturing that Narcissa remembered had given way to quiet superiority. Rather than simply parroting off the opinions of his father, he stood wholly on his own.

He was more physically attractive too. Lucius had always been elegantly handsome, even as a boy, but he had also slender and somewhat delicate. Now, however, he was completely different. He was easily a head taller than Narcissa, and his chest had broadened and figure filled out, so that she could see the bulges of powerful muscles in his shoulders and thighs…not that she was paying any attention! Narcissa shook her head, forcing the images out of her mind so that she could rummage in the darkness for the volume that Lucius had requested. Locating it, she flipped through the pages, frowning at the notes that she had scribbled in the margins. She needed her wand to erase them, and it was still in the en suite with Malfoy.

"Narcissa?"

Almost as if he could hear her thinking his name, Lucius popped his head outside the bath, "Did you find it?"

"I did." She strode forward, extending her hand to offer him the book. "Here you are then."

"Thank you." Lucius pocketed the book. "I'll see you tomorrow for our next lesson then?"

"Our next lesson?" Narcissa failed to hide her surprise. She hadn't expected Lucius to continue helping her now that he had what he wanted.

"Of course…there are more books?"

"Oh. Yes." There was definitely another pang- a pang of something that Narcissa wasn't willing to explore. "Tomorrow morning then?"

"Right."

..ooOOoo..

The next day, it was Narcissa who was running late. She overslept. After a night of fitful tossing, she had finally fallen asleep just before dawn and lost herself in a peculiar dream that she could barely remember. She knew that Malfoy had been in it, but couldn't work out why. There was clearly something about him that had engaged even her subconscious.

"Ten Thirty-two?" Lucius drawled as Narcissa burst breathlessly into the room. Her chest was heaving and her skin was flushed, but she supposed it didn't matter. She hadn't done more for her appearance than simply run a comb through her hair.

"You waited." Narcissa said, puzzled.

Lucius shrugged, and then admitted devilishly, "I just got here too."

He smiled at her. Encouraged, Narcissa flashed her own toothy grin, "What are we learning today?"

"Flirting."

"Flirting?" Narcissa scrunched up her nose. Hadn't they progressed beyond that point? "But I already have a date."

"Having a date is only the first step." Lucius said. "Don't you want to ensure a second? A third? Aren't you ready to start naming his squalling little brats?" This last bit was spoken with a sneer. "Well?"

In all honesty, Narcissa hadn't expected to merit even a first date, but she nodded her head.

"Very well." Lucius said, "Let's begin."

Narcissa took a seat in one of the armchairs that she had conjured two days earlier, and then settled back to listen.

"The point of flirting is to hint to the other party that you are interested in pursuing a relationship."

Narcissa dipped her head. Again, it seemed that she had achieved this goal.

Reading her expression, Lucius shook his head. "It can't be as obvious as you've done."

"But I thought that he was meant to know that I like him?"

"Not _know._ Suspect. He's meant to _think_ that you _might_ like him." Lucius corrected, " You have to keep him guessing…and you can't simply bat your eyelashes and agree with everything that he says."

"Then what _can_ I do?" Narcissa asked in exasperation.

"Compliments are a good way to start." Lucius instructed. "Then, when a rapport has been established, you move on to innuendo. Watch."

Narcissa gasped as Lucius sidled into the chair beside her, then leaned over to whisper into her eat. "That's a lovely dress you're wearing." He reached forward to touch the trim of the deep V at her neck. Narcissa's skin prickled beneath his touch. "It looks good on you."

"It's Bella's dress!" Narcissa blurted in a panic.

Lucius sighed. "No, Narcissa. That's all wrong. I wasn't asking who the dress belonged to, I was trying to start a playful conversation." He pressed his eyes shut for a moment. When he opened them again, he said. "Say it to me."

"What?"

"Repeat what I said. I'll show you what you're meant to do."

Narcissa's lips twisted into a bemused smile. "That's a lovely dress you're wearing, Mr. Malfoy. It looks good on you."

Lucius flashed his teeth. "It looks even better off."

Narcissa gasped and flushed, causing Lucius to laugh at her. "We'll work on that." He promised, "But we'll start with compliments first. The keys are creativity and sincerity. Pick out something unique that you truly like. Deliver the compliment, and then follow up with a question, like so:" He made a gesture to indicate that he would offer another example. "I don't meet many women who are interested in potions. They take a great degree of concentration. What got you interested?" He waited for the girl to answer.

Narcissa frowned. She couldn't well answer the truth: Love potions!"

"Explosions." She said at last.

Lucius had been opening his mouth to say something else, and left it hanging as he processed her words. "Explosions?" He echoed incredulously.

Narcissa nodded. "Yes. Andromeda got a potions kit one Christmas when we were small, but you couldn't make explosions with it. They didn't give you the right ingredients. Shrinking potions, laughing lotion- that's all it could do. Nothing really dangerous. When you study upper level potions, you can pretty well have anything you want."

"At school?" Lucius tone betrayed his interest.

"Well, yes- and here too. Papa has a lab under his study."

"He does?"

Narcissa bit her lip, realizing too late what she had said. "Yes…well…" She continued uncomfortably. "So…er…that's flirting, is it?"

Remembering himself, Lucius dipped his chin. It was obvious that he wanted to continue their discussion, but he dropped it for the time being. "You try it." He suggested. "Try to start a conversation with me. Compliment first, like I showed you."

"Oh…all right." Narcissa felt certain that she preferred talking about her father's forbidden lab to this! She let her eyes roam over Malfoy, searching for a compliment that she could offer without looking like a fool. Her skin flushed scarlet again as she considered the possibilities.

For the second time that morning, Narcissa considered how devastatingly handsome he was- not that it would ever do to say that! He might get the wrong impression if she complimented his ash grey eyes or cornsilk hair…it was the wrong impression, wasn't it? Suddenly, Narcissa wasn't sure. She felt queasy. She couldn't praise him for being "nice" either- he wasn't being nice, was he? He was purely aiding her for profit in the form of access to her father's book. Perhaps she should comment on his shrewdness? That didn't seem right either- and she was running out of time.

Lucius's head was cocked to the side, and he frowned at her. "Surely it's not _that _hard." He said in a stung tone.

"Well, you're not bad for one of Rodolphus's friend, are you?" She finally blurted.

Lucius continued to peer at her, his brow furrowing, and then he finally smiled. Narcissa's heart gave a flutter.

"Not bad for a first try, I suppose- though the phrase 'damning with faint praise' comes to mind. What's your question?"

She hesitated, so he prompted, "The question you're meant to follow up with, remember? We can't very well have a conversation about that fact that I'm not too horribly bad."

'Er…yes. Uhm…What do you think about Bellatrix and Rodolphus getting married?"

She wondered if she'd asked the wrong question, because Lucius's features blackened. "How do you know about that? I thought he hadn't asked her yet."

"Well, he will do." Narcissa was confused, "Papa never would have left us here if he didn't know it was coming- I heard them talking in Papa's study."

"How?"

"Er…How?" Narcissa frowned at the question, realizing too late that she had exposed her tendency to eavesdrop. "I happened to be in the room." She lied. "No one ever notices me around, do they?"

"At their own peril." Lucius muttered. His frown deepened, but he surprised her by saying. "They should do. You could be a rather dangerous creature if you tried…and I think that it's a mistake."

"Being dangerous?"

"Bellatrix and Rodolphus. I think that's it's a mistake for them to get married."

"Because they're so young?"

"Because they're in love."

Narcissa was about to dispute this accusation, but she reconsidered. Bellatrix had been with Rodolphus for years, and had tolerated behavior on his behalf that would have left other boys hexed into eunuchs. Surely Bellatrix did love him? Did he love her? He was young and under no compulsion to marry. If he was defying the advice of his friends- for surely Malfoy had advised him against the match- that must be evidence of some strong affection on Rodolphus's part? Accepting this as true, Narcissa paused to ponder the other question raised by Lucius's remarks.

"And that's a bad thing?"

Lucius nodded his chin in a definite motion. "Yes. It's a distraction. Marriage is a business arrangement and, hopefully, involves a small degree of mutual attraction. There's no call to be sentimental. It complicates things."

"But don't you want to fall in love?" Narcissa's head was spinning. She had lost track of how the conversation made this turn.

"No."

"But…but won't that make it hard?"

"Hard?"

"To be…er…intimate with your wife."

The look that Lucius returned made her feel like a silly little girl.

"That's _lust_ Narcissa." He answered calmly. "Something entirely different, though women often confuse the two." He made a sound that Narcissa took to be a long-suffering sigh. "It's purely biology- nothing that any two normal, healthy adults couldn't manage at any time." She hadn't realized how terribly close he was standing. The scent of his cologne made her feel lightheaded. "You and I could do it right now if we were so inclined."

Somewhere, his voice had dropped to a silky purr. She would have sworn that he'd moved closer. She felt his breath on her cheek, and her entire body was tingling as, unbidden, her imagination fleshed out the hypothetical occurrence. She pictured Malfoy's taut, toned body unclothed, the sensation of his weight shifting onto her…

"But, that's a lesson for another day." Lucius finished brightly, snapping her out of her reverie. "I told Rodolphus I'd meet him this morning, so I don't suppose I'll see you until dinner….oh, and I got an elf to do your hair."

"M-my hair?" Narcissa was still caught in the thrall of her daydream and barely heard the words.

"Yes…Bipsy or Bopsy or some such nonsense. My mother keeps it s a spare and I thought you might find it helpful."

"Thank you."

Lucius waved her gratitude away. "It was nothing. Well, " He turned toward the door, but paused, "Good luck this afternoon."

_With Rookwood, he means_, Narcissa told herself firmly, wishing that it was possible to slap her own cheek without letting Malfoy notice. It was ridiculous letting herself get caught up in thoughts of Lucius of all people! It was Rookwood she wanted!

Narcissa whiled away the afternoon with her old potions textbook, cooking up a skin clarifying lotion that she found in the appendix to pass the time. All too often, her attention drifted, playing out the scene in the ballroom in her head- though with very different ending.

"This is ridiculous!" Narcissa said aloud, tossing her textbook to the ground. She wanted _Rookwood. Rookwood_ was her date to the Rhys-Boomslang ball, and she ought to be concentrating on putting Malfoy's lessons to work! She didn't really like her teacher. She simply wasn't used to attention. The conversations that she and Lucius shared were the longest that she had been a part of outside of school.

Somewhat reassured, Narcissa set about making a plan. It was still two hours before Rookwood arrived with the Post. She could pass the time letting the elf fix her hair and thinking of some complimentary thing to say to help her flirt.

By quarter to five, Narcissa was ready. She practiced her flirting one more time in the mirror and stole a glance at her hair.

It really did look quite nice. She'd only had to stab her finger at a photograph in Witch Weekly and the elf had gone to work. Wielding the curling wand with surprising dexterity and securing its work with bobby pins, the little creature expertly recreated the style that Narcissa had selected. Feeling rather pleased, Narcissa had applied the clarifying potion and dabbed a spot of gloss on her lips as well. Admiring her reflection, she was convinced that even Lucius would have to approve.

_Not that I care_. She amended quickly. Sighing at this lapse in focus, Narcissa stalked down the stairs to wait. It was slow going. The hem on her borrowed dress was several inches too long. It reminded her that she would require new robes for the ball. Perhaps she ought to get some everyday dresses as well? She really hadn't bothered to shop since returning from school. Lucius would know which shops were the good ones.

Before she could chide herself for letting her thoughts drift once more to Malfoy, she heard the knocker on the front door.

"Coming!" She called, and hurried forward.

The surprise on Rookwood's face at what greeted him was palpable. For the second time in a row, he was welcomed by a transformed Miss Black. "Good afternoon." He said in a far more respectful tone than usual. "I've come for the post."

"Its just over here." Narcissa's heard was pounding as she walked toward the table in the hall and prepared to deliver her line. "You're so very prompt, Mr. Rookwood. Do you come here straight from work?"

For a moment, there was silence. Narcissa feared that she had miscalculated. Perhaps the compliment was too subtle? Should she have praised his appearance? She'd tried to think of something, but had been thwarted. She'd always liked Rookwood's eyes, and had been most perplexed to realize that she couldn't recall their color.

"Yes." Rookwood finally answered the question. He was gawking, but oddly, she was unperturbed by the scrutiny. "You look different." He said.

Narcissa chewed her lip. Was that meant to be a compliment in return? She waited for his follow-up question. Obviously, if it was, Lucius and Augustus belonged to different schools of flirting because the query never came. He merely stared at her awkwardly. Narcissa was about to hand Augustus the parchments and send him on his way when she became aware of another presence in the room.

It was Lucius. She knew without looking. Suddenly, every nerve in her body was crackling and alive. She _felt_ him walk up behind her and hover at her side.

"Ah, Rookwood. Back again, I see. Couldn't send an elf to run the errands…or don't you keep elves?"

Lucius's opening parlay was hardly complimentary, but then, Narcissa reckoned that Lucius wasn't trying to flirt.

Rookwood stiffened, but he couldn't fire off a retort before Malfoy added. "Narcissa and I were just about to have a cup of tea. Could you join us before you venture back off into the cold?"

Narcissa didn't know what Lucius was doing, but she supposed that he was trying to ensure that his flirting lesson was put to use.

"I suppose I could do." Rookwood answered suspiciously. He accepted the parchments from Narcissa, thrust them into his packet, and then flung his cloak onto an elf.

"The drawing room, Narcissa?" Lucius asked, leaving the girl with nothing to do but nod her head.

The filed down the hallway and then into the graceful blue sitting room where Narcissa's mother had presided over teas years before

The tea service, cakes and salmon and cucumber sandwiches were laid out on the table already- no doubt another of Malfoy's arrangements, but he deferred to Narcissa to pour.

"Lovely." Lucius murmured as he accepted his dish of milky tea. "Narcissa is such a natural hostess. She's going to be quite an asset to her husband someday."

_He doesn't mean it_, Narcissa reminded herself, too distracted to be annoyed that she was being spoken of as if she wasn't there, or at the chauvinistic content of Lucius's speech. He was merely laying it on thick for their guest. Still, Narcissa felt a bubble of pride. She turned toward Lucius and offered a small, grateful smile, but paused, bemused when she saw what he was doing. He was piling a scone with jam and clotted cream. She didn't know where he had got it.

"A bit rustic, isn't it Lucius?" She teased as he took a hearty bite of his cream tea.

"Merely playing the tourist." He replied. "I can't have a visit to Cornwall without it, can I?"

"You're thinking of _Devon_." Narcissa corrected, still smiling at the relish with which he was devouring the scone. "And I suppose you'll be wanting a pasty next?"

"Perhaps." He replied, unruffled but echoing the smile. "My nanny was from Cornwall. She fed me cream teas all the time."

"You had a human nanny?" Rookwood broke in, speaking at last. "Doesn't your house have elves?" He smirked, copying Lucius's earlier taunt.

Lucius glared frostily at the other man. "Of course we have elves. Any idiot knows its better to leave children with actual witches…if you can afford them."

Rookwood's mouth pressed into a line as he absorbed the barb. Narcissa noted that he hadn't touched his tea or sandwich. "Keeping children is like tending sheep," He declared pompously, "I think that its demeaning work for a witch."

"Then you think motherhood is demeaning?" Lucius turned the comment on its head.

"Of course not." Augustus said, glaring into his teacup. "I simply meant that very young children hardly require a full-blown wizard for their care, and older children of a certain class should be accustomed to managing inferiors. Squalling and toddling around hardly requires the retention of a human staff."

"How very progressive." Lucius muttered wryly. There was s twinkle in his eye as he turned toward Narcissa. "What do you think, Miss Black?"

Narcissa's mouth went dry as she was put on the spot. She couldn't agree with Lucius without looking foolish, but she couldn't agree with Augustus and be sincere. Besides, hadn't Lucius said that she wasn't meant to agree with everything that men might say?

"Actually, I plan to look after my children myself." She announced to the astonishment of Rookwood and Malfoy both.

"Do you?" Lucius regarded her curiously. Augustus was merely frowning.

"With help, of course." She amended. "I don't mean to be changing nappies.

"Of course not!" Rookwood looked relieved.

There was another pause. This time it was Augustus who broke it. "I hope, Miss Black, that Mr. Malfoy has informed you of my invitation to accompany me to the Rhys-Boomslang ball next week?"

She didn't care for the arrogant tone of his voice. Then again, he _was_ doing her a favor.

"Yes. Thank you. I'd be delighted to go."

"I thought as much." He smile smugly. "It's the least I can do for your father while he's away.

The reminded of _why_ he was taking her was something of a slap in the face. Lucius must have noticed her grimace because he snarled: "The very least." And abruptly stood. "I'll show you out then, shall I?"

Rookwood blinked and then stared at his untouched tea. However, he really had no choice but to nod as Lucius loomed over his chair.

"Yes." He answered. Standing, he offered a cursory bow in Narcissa's direction. "Goodbye, Miss Black." To her utter astonishment, he reached forward for her hand. He kissed it lightly before he turned to leave, and Narcissa saw him meet Malfoy's eyes. Their gazes locked. Something passed silently between the men, and then Malfoy edged them toward the door.

Lucius stopped before he reached the threshold. "I ought to go look for Rodolphus." He announced as way of farewell. He offered a bow of his own. Then, stepping forward, he took Narcissa's other hand. Instead of kissing the back as Rookwood had done, he turned it over. He pressed his lips into the soft middle of her palm. The ridges of his mouth tickled against the sensitive skin as they lingered a moment longer then necessary. Then, he released her and turned to go.

After the men had disappeared, Narcissa sank back into her chair. She stared at her outstretched hands.

Only one of them was tingling.

..ooOOoo.. 

Lucius didn't know what had possessed him to copy Rookwood and kiss Narcissa's hand. Now that the deed was done, he didn't want to reflect on it. He worried that the pounding of his heart and odd lightheadedness might mean that he had taken sympathy a bit too far.

"You know, I think I forgot my-" Rookwood started to say, pausing in the hall as they neared the front door.

"We'll owl it." Lucius snapped reflexively. "I'll send it with an elf."

"You don't even know what I was going to say!" Rookwood protested. He gave Lucius a level stare. "What's wrong with you, Malfoy?"

"Wrong, with _me_?" Lucius felt his composure return as the venom-drench words dripped from his tongue.

"Yes. You're acting very odd. What's your interest in all of this?"

"All of what?"

"Me, and the Black girl."

"_Narcissa._"

"I know her name!" Rookwood had come to a full stop and refused to budge even when Lucius tried to cow him into walking again. "I mean, why is it that you're suddenly around whenever I want to have a word with her alone."

"Do you want to have a word with her?" Lucius's tone was suspicious. "I don't recall your having any business with Narcissa before a few days ago."

"Yes, I want to have a word with her. She's my date, isn't she?"

"As a favor to her father- as you felt the need to underscore."

"Well, it isn't _just_ that." Rookwood insisted, "She's been...rather different these past few days, hasn't she?"

Lucius's lips pressed into a thin line but he didn't answer.

"You aren't courting her yourself, are you?"

"No!" Lucius said quickly- _too _quickly, because Augustus quirked a brow. "I mean, not at present."

"Then, you wouldn't mind if I took her to dinner?"

"Dinner? When? Where?"

"I thought we'd established that it wasn't your concern?" Rookwood said smugly. "In any event, please ask her if she's available Friday evening."

"Why can't you ask her yourself?"

"You won't let me back into the drawing room!" Rookwood said in exasperation.

Lucius was embarrassed to realize that the other man was right. He was blocking the entire path. Feeling foolish, he stepped aside. "Fine. _Go_. Get your...whatever it was...while you're in there."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed as he watched Rookwood walk back down the hall and disappear into the room where Narcissa sat. _What's taking him so long? _Lucius thought as the minutes dragged past, frowning and wondering if he ought to go back inside too.

_No, that would never do_. Lucius picked up a porcelain figurine off one of the tables in the hall and turned it over in his hand. Rookwood had already gotten the ridiculous notion that Lucius was interested in Narcissa. It wouldn't do to go galloping back in there and making things look worse. He ought to be pleased that Augustus was taking some interest in the girl apart from simply viewing her as a chore. _Not that he wasn't too blind to see it before._ Lucius thought, annoyed at the other man's shortsightedness. There was a good deal more to Narcissa than simply a pretty face and an exquisite pedigree. If Rookwood couldn't see that, then he didn't deserve her!

Lucius was still mulling these thoughts when the other man finally emerged, his wand tucked under his arm and a self-important smile on his face. "Friday evening then, Miss Black." He said with another bow, and then he strode past Lucius and out the door.

Narcissa appeared in the hallway a few minutes later. Her cheeks were glowing pink. Lucius wondered if Rookwood had kissed her again.

"Well, you certainly look pleased." He snarled at her.

Abruptly, the smile on Narcissa's face vanished. "Mr. Rookwood has asked me out for dinner on Friday." She said crisply. "Your lessons have worked again."

"I ought to write a book." Lucius said sarcastically. "Well, I suppose I should leave you to your euphoria now." He turned sharply, expression carefully composed as he started toward the steps.

"Lucius!"

How did she manage it? Why was it that his breath caught in his throat when she spoke his name?

"Lucius, don't go!"

He turned slowly, looking slightly above her head as he said, "Why?"

"You..." She twisted her fingers in the folds of her robes. "You forgot your book."

"I'm not done with the other one yet." He started to turn again, but froze when he felt her hand on his wrist.

"Lucius..."

Her grip faltered as he turned. She stared at her feet and spoke very quickly. "I can't do this without you. Please don't go."

"Of course you can." Lucius said dismissively, but he felt his resolve melt a little. He still didn't trust Rookwood's interest in Narcissa. Even if it was genuine, it wasn't strong- and Augustus was just enough of a caddish oaf to go breaking her heart if she wasn't shown the proper way to behave. "What else do you need to know?" He said at last.

"What to wear. What to do..." She said, stepping closer. He thought he could feel the heat of her body through his clothes. "What if he tries to kiss me?" Narcissa asked in the same tone that she had inquired about what to select from the menu. Her shocking teal eyes stared at Lucius from behind her ragged fringe, all business as she waited for a response.

"Well…" he hedged. Something inside him was twisting. "I suppose you'll have to kiss him back."

"How?"

"How?" He frowned. Surely she didn't mean to question him on technique? "Well, you've been kissed, haven't you?" ADVANCE d 4

There was just enough hesitation in her reply to make him doubt the sincerity of what she said next. "Sure. Loads of times." She chewed her lip and then amended. "I mean…once, by Remington Flint…but I don't think we got it right."

"How could you mess it up?" Lucius wasn't certain that he wanted to know, but curiosity drove him forward.

"Well, I don't think it's supposed to hurt."

"Hurt?"

"I don't think I was supposed to bite him when he put his tongue in my mouth." She admitted artlessly. Then, noting Lucius's arched brow added: "It was disgusting."

In spite of feeling vaguely horrified by where the conversation had gone, and in defiance of the prickle of jealousy which had illogically darted through his mind, he smirked, "Well then, Remington Flint must have got it wrong. But you're right. You oughtn't have bit him"

Narcissa nodded her head, accepting this information and digesting it like another page in one of her books. Staring at the girl, her arms folded and nearly lost in the too-long robes that had belonged to Bella years before, Lucius was struck by the vivid mental image of a quill scratching against parchment in her brain, setting everything down for inspection and meditation when she was alone. She was staring at him with an unreadable look.

"Is there something else?"

Narcissa shrugged. For a moment there was awkward silence. Then, she blurted, "Show me?"

Lucius arched an eyebrow, suspecting but not quite believing what she proposed to do. He had to restrain a smile. For the first time since he had started to notice, she appeared flustered.

"Well, of course we wouldn't mean it!" She said, cheeks blazing.

"Mean it?" Amused astonishment had reduced his replied to stupefied echoes of what she said before.

"It's just part of the lesson after all.." Narcissa's poise seemed to be returning, because she finally met his gaze. The smirk on her unpainted lips was so quintessentially Black that, on any other occasion, Lucius might have been tempted to laugh. As it was, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. This had the effect of infuriating Narcissa, "Surely I wouldn't be that awful to kiss?"

"No." Lucius answered quickly- too quickly for comfort, and he hurriedly continued with "I suppose we ought to ensure that you've mastered the basics."

Narcissa pinked, but was silent. She laid down her wand, and then turned back toward him, stepping forward and lifting her chin expectantly. Her extraordinary blue eyes peeked again from behind her fringe. Lucius had a the urge stroke the hair off of her face. He resisted, however, and kept his hands at his sides as he apprized the situation.

"Not so stiff." He chided, and Narcissa obediently slumped. "No- not limp either."

"I just…" A flash of frustrated fury crossed her face, illuminating the features like a spark of lightning in the sky. It ignited something inside him. There was another uncomfortable pang.

"Maybe this isn't a good idea." He spoke slowly, "Didn't the _Witch Weeklies_ I gave you offer any-?"

"_Witch Weekly_ is concerned with more advanced techniques." Narcissa snapped. Her lower lip protruded slightly and she continued to hold her chin aloft. "Well?" she said after a pause.

"Well?"

"Are you going to kiss me or not?"

"Such a tempting offer." He teased. Her scowl darkened dangerously. "Oh, very well." He finally conceded, making a great show of condescension, "If you insist."

Still cross, Narcissa loosened slightly. Lucius could tell from the careful posture of her shoulders that she was trying very hard to hold a stance somewhere between the "stiff" and "boneless" attempts that he had mocked.

"You're trying too hard."

"Well, I don't know what to do!"

"Just relax." Lucius laughed at her growing agitation. "Close your eyes."

Again, she complied. Her lids drifted slowly shut. Her back was still rigid. Her lips were puckered. She looked like she was bracing herself for something.

Lucius let her wait.

"Get on with it." She exhaled when the tension became too great. A turquoise slit emerged from beneath her heavy lashes. "Have you changed your mind?"

"I'm waiting for the right moment." He tapped her nose with his finger. "Close your eyes."

He waited for her eyes to flutter closed again and then he reached for her, succumbing at last to the temptation of brushing her fringe aside.

He had to admit it: she really was quite pretty in her way. Beneath her wretched, unkempt, mouse-brown hair she hid the same high cheekbones and aquiline nose as Bellatrix. Her eyes were less heavily lidded than her sister, and instead of the older girls wide, thin mouth, Narcissa's was like an overturned rosehip: small and plump and pink.

Lucius fixated on that little pillow of flesh. Hooking his index finger under her chin, he brushed the pad of his thumb over the shallow-ridged skin. The unexpected touch drew a gasp of surprise.

"Lucius?"

Then, in that brief moment of disorientation, he made his move. Grasping her shoulders, he pressed his lips against the corners of her mouth, first one and then the other. Automatically, Narcissa went stiff with shock, but slowly softened. When she had melted a little he repeated the gesture, and then rubbed his lips over the center of her pout.

A thrill of friction spiraled through his body when he finally covered Narcissa's lips completely and bore down. She welcomed his touch, answering shyly with the faintest pressure of her own.

He couldn't say what he had expected kissing Narcissa would be like. He hadn't or wouldn't admit to having thought of it before. Intuitively, however, it seemed that it should be awkward. They should be bumping noses and stealing breath. Instead, it was quite the opposite. Kissing her seemed like the most natural thing that he had ever done. Like a key sliding into a well-oiled lock, there was no resistance. Their bodies moved effortlessly into place, then worked together seamlessly, flawlessly, and without conscious thought.

Lucius barely noticed as her arms slid around his waist. He was too lost in unexpected sensations: the cool mint of her breath, the plain-soap fragrance of her skin, the minky softness of her dull brown hair- but he instantly registered the puddles of heat where her hands pawed nervously at his back. He released her shoulders. With the backs of his fingers, he swept up the curve of her throat, and then hooked them into her unruly hair, which he tugged on to tilt her chin.

His tongue flicked against the seam of her lips, and they parted at his touch. The cool freshness of her breath was even more pronounced as he snaked his tongue between her teeth. He probed gently into the moist hollow, slicking the wet muscles of their tongues together, and then tickling the sensitive roof of her mouth.

Blood pounded in his ears as he continued to taste and tempt his student. His body was stirring. His nerves were crackling. A pain was building in his chest: an uncomfortable tightness that built and spread until he finally realized what was wrong: he wasn't breathing. Just as he made this realization, the small fingers that had been clutching his back began to scramble and push away. He had no choice but to end the kiss. They broke away, gasping and sputtering.

Lucius took air in thirsty gulps, willing his pulse to slow. Even after his lungs were filled, his senses continued to swim. What had just happened?

"Well, now I suppose I'll know what to expect."

Lucius stared at Narcissa, utterly dumbfounded. Her skin was flushed and her eyes were sparkling like a pair of aquamarines, but her features were resolutely serene.

"W-what?" He sputtered, barely hearing the chiding voice in his head assuring him that Malfoys never sputtered.

"I don't think that he'll go quite so far on a first date." Narcissa continued in a casual tone, "But its good information to have. Thank you very much, Lucius. I'll bring you another book tonight."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Lucius wished that he had things to do over again. The intensity of their touch had taken him by surprise and he feared that he hadn't made his best effort. It felt strangely imperative to ensure that his own kisses spoiled her for life. Perhaps they could revisit that course of study the following morning? Surely, Lucius could think of a great many things that Narcissa ought to be prepared for.

This pleasant thought carried Malfoy through the evening, but his plans were dashed. After an early morning hunting expedition with Rodolphus, he returned to find the ballroom empty.

"Where's Narcissa?" He asked, bounding into the smoking room and catching Rodolphus and the future Mrs. Lestrange in a torrid embrace.

Extracting herself begrudgingly, Bellatrix made a face. "I'd imagine she's still floating six feet above the ground."

Lucius continued to look confused. Taking pity on him, Rodolphus interpreted. "I think she's still in the drawing room, trying to work out where to put Rookwood's flowers.

Malfoy stiffened immediately, and was rather grateful for that innate reaction, as it prevented him from bolting to the door. "He sent her flowers, did he?" He asked in what he hoped was a neutral tone. There was a wormy, twisting feeling in his stomach which he feared might be a twinge of jealousy. It was an entirely alien sensation. He had never been jealous before. People were meant to be jealous of _him!_

Forcing himself to appear casual, Lucius picked up the paper and made a move to settle into a chair, but Rodolphus clearing his throat reminded him that Narcissa's flowers was the last thing on the future Lestrange's minds, so he was forced to excuse himself.

Lucius walked back down the hall, trying not to be obvious as he headed toward the front of the house. It didn't take effort to spy Rookwood's flowers. The rosewood table beneath the chandelier, usually ornamented by a tasteful arrangement of orchids in a Chinese vase, was now groaning under the weight of the most gaudily overblown profusion of blossoms he'd ever seen.

_Gladiolas._ He sniffed contemptuously, thinking that if Rookwood was out to court a girl he ought to at least do it properly. Lucius would have sent roses- not the hothouse kind, the wild, bramble ones that were the colour of Narcissa's cheeks.

He determined to owl the florist directly after breakfast, but he wanted to find Narcissa first. He felt the need to see for himself what effect, if any, this offering had had on Narcissa's crush. He reminded himself that she was still a very young girl and rather unaccustomed to the attention of men. No doubt she had been flattered. He himself was somewhat surprised at the length that Rookwood had gone to- given that the man had more or less said the day before that his interest in Narcissa was shallow at best. It wouldn't do for her to get her heart broken by misinterpreting the gift. Lucius needed to clear things up- to warn her of the guiles that men used. Perhaps afterwards they could move on to their more interesting studies.

Anxious to begin, Lucius hurried through the halls, but he froze as he entered the morning room.

"Oh, Lucius! Look who's come!"

Narcissa was sitting at the table, daintily buttering a scone and looking as if she'd just rolled out of bed. Her hair was once again wild, and her face was devoid of paint, but her skin had a bright, vibrant glow. She was swathed in something which might have been a dressing gown, but in any event was unfit for receiving guests. Rookwood appeared somewhat discomfited to discover that his swan had reverted to duckling form. He was perched on the edge of his chair, looking as if he wanted an excuse to go.

"What are you doing here?" He growled at Rookwood as he slid into a seat of his own, pointedly choosing the chair between Narcissa and the other man. He briefly dropped his scowl to give Miss Black a radiant smile. "You're looking lovely as ever this morning." He said sweetly. Without being asked, he reached forward to pour himself a cup of tea.

"I was in the neighbourhood." Rookwood mumbled his posture stiffening as he rose to Malfoy's bait. "I decided to stop by the house."

"Augustus brought me flowers!" Narcissa interjected, eyes glittering. "They're in the hallway, did you see?"

"I saw." Lucius said stiffly, doubly annoyed when the other man caught the disgust in his tone. "A rather awkwardly large arrangement. Did you steal them from a funeral on the way here?" He simply couldn't resist.

"Lucius!" Narcissa's tone was reproachful and he instantly regretted the remark. It was ridiculous to behave so churlishly, but he simply couldn't help himself. "Mr. Rookwood was being kind!"

"Unlikely." Lucius retorted in a voice too low for her to hear. He gave the other man a jaw-clenched smile. "Weren't you on your way to work?"

"Yes, actually." Augustus said in a self-important tone. "But I'm going to France on business this afternoon and thought I'd better stop by and get the post."

"I'll run and fetch it!" Narcissa said quickly, and then popped out of her chair.

As soon as she was gone, Rookwood turned on Lucius, eyes blazing. "I'll thank you to kindly keep your nose out of my business." He hissed angrily.

Lucius arched an aristocratic brow. "Rookwood, what on Earth do you mean?"

"Miss Black." Rookwood said tightly. "You didn't care about her at all until she started paying attention to me. You can go back to jerking along Cat Baker or whomever-"

"_Kitty Slater_." Lucius corrected wondering if Rookwood could remember _any_ woman's name and pleased to see that this only made Rookwood angrier.

"_Kitty Slater_ or whatever other woman you're dallying with this week and leave this one to me. Narcissa could be very helpful to my career and-"

"Your career?" The veneer of politeness slipped from Lucius's face as he rose from the chair, stalking forward. "Don't presume to know about my interest in Narcissa, Rookwood, and don't think that I'm going to let you-"

"_Let_ me?" Now Rookwood was taunting. "I don't know that its up to you to _let me_ do anything." He said smugly. "It's me that Narcissa's always wanted."

"So sure of that, are you?"

"Yes." Rookwood slipped something out of his pocket and Lucius frowned in confusion. It looked like a diary. "Bellatrix can be a very ally at times." Rookwood said, his voice sickly sweet. "Did you know, Malfoy, that Narcissa hates roses?"

Lucius gasped as he was finally able to make out the writing on the spine: The Journal of Narcissa Avalon Black. It was a diary- Narcissa's diary! Bellatrix must have handed it over to Rookwood!

He didn't want to believe that it was true, but Augustus flipped through the pages until he came to one and stopped. "Here it is 'Rodolphus has sent Bellatrix flowers again. I'd be jealous if they weren't stuffy old roses again…'" His grin widened. "Oh, and this reminds me that I really must thank you for the lessons you are giving her- perhaps you should concentrate a bit more on grooming?"

It was a particularly low barb and Lucius's expression blackened.

He stopped on the last page, "I think that I can manage the other tutoring."

"You won't get away with this!" Lucius declared, still shocked that Bellatrix would have handed over the book. No doubt she thought that she was being helpful, but it was despicable to think that Rookwood would use it to pull all of Narcissa's strings- and he didn't really care about her at all!

"We'll see about that." Was all the other man said, and Lucius finally snapped. "Who's going to stop me, 'that wretched Malfoy boy?'" He made a particular point of emphasizing the final word as he parroted out of the diary.

"Yes." Lucius answered quietly, and would have said more if Narcissa hadn't chosen that precise moment to re-enter the room.

She was still far enough away for Rookwood to issue a final taunt: "Very well, Malfoy." He sneered, "May the best man win."

..ooOOoo..

"May the best man win."

Narcissa didn't know what Rookwood was talking about could feel the tension in the room as she returned with a pile of parchments that had arrived from her father the evening before. Lucius was scowling, and she assumed that he was annoyed that she hadn't bothered to do anything with her hair. In her defence, she hadn't expected Rookwood so early, and had been utterly dumbfounded when he arrived with a bouquet of flowers. Still, it was obvious that Lucius was working very hard to make things work between she and Rookwood and it must look ungrateful for her to squander his lessons. In the future, she would make sure to summon the elf as soon as she was out of bed. It didn't take too long, after all. It was just a matter of habit.

Narcissa had laid awake much of the night before turning things over in her mind, and she was happy to note that things seemed much clearer to her now that the morning had come. It was utterly ridiculous to throw herself at Malfoy. He was clearly out of her league. True their family backgrounds were similar, and it wasn't at all out of the realm of possibility for him to take up with her sister Bellatrix, but Bellatrix and Narcissa were two very different girls. Bella (and even Andromeda before she went away) was elegant and poised. She was witty and vibrant- the sort of girl that men hovered around like moths about a flame. Narcissa was simply…

"Daydreaming again?" Lucius's expression was still brooding and Narcissa gave herself a mental kick.

"Oh, excuse me. I was…thinking about what gown I'm going to wear to dinner tonight." She lied, but hoped that it sounded like something a witty, vibrant girl would say (witty and vibrant enough for Rookwood at least).

Lucius gave her an odd sort of look, and then he took her arm. "I'm sorry to leave you, Mr. Rookwood, but I think that Bellatrix was looking for us earlier." He announced.

Narcissa bowed her head. Obviously she was making a mess of things and Lucius meant to extract her as soon as possible. "Yes, of course." She mumbled meekly and started scuffling toward the door.

She gasped when Rookwood caught her arm and spun her around to face him. His own features were twisted into something almost like a grimace, and so she was utterly unprepared for what happened next.

For one awful moment, Narcissa truly believed that he was going to bite her. That, at least, seemed far more likely than what he actually did do: planted a kiss squarely in the middle of her lips. It only lasted a moment. Blessedly, unlike Remington Flint he had the intelligence not to squash his tongue between her teeth, but she still felt as though she had just been shot. Blinking, she stumbled back, squarely into Malfoy's chest, so close to falling that he had to tighten his arms around her waist to keep her standing upright.

"Adieu, Miss Black." Rookwood said with a tilt of his head. Then he swept out of the room.

There was silence as Rookwood's footsteps echoed down the hall, finally capped by the squeal of the door swinging open and book as it clamoured shut. When she finally got the courage to turn round, Narcissa was unsurprised to find that Lucius looked absolutely thunderous.

"Oh, I made a muddle of that, didn't I?" She tried to joke, but Malfoy would have none of it. He was still staring grimly, and the fingers grasping her waist were digging into her ribs like pinchers.

A part of her wanted to linger, not minding the pain. It was, at least, contact with Lucius. She forced the thought away. This was precisely the sort of silliness that she had warned herself against. Gathering her resolve, she pulled herself out of Malfoy's arms. "I don't suppose that Bellatrix and Rodolphus really wanted us?" She asked shrewdly.

He shook his head.

"Well then, I think I'd best go back upstairs to change. Rookwood might come back."

"Yes. He's developed a habit of popping by." Lucius said. She thought he ought to be happy- his lessons were paying off!- but he was still too cross to smile.

"Are we going to have a lesson?"

Narcissa was almost afraid to ask and wasn't surprised when he answered: "Not right now."

"Later then?" She couldn't squelch the hope that fluttered in her chest or the euphoria when he nodded "Yes"

"It occurs to me." He said slowly, "That if you're meant to dine with Rookwood on Friday, we'll need to accelerate the course."

"Oh?" Narcissa hadn't expected him to move forward. She assumed that they would concentrate on remediation, as she had so clearly failed to retain what he had taught her before.

"I was thinking about yesterday…" He drawled. She hoped he couldn't see the flush on her cheeks as her thoughts drifted back to the kissing lessons. Practice had certainly been different than reality, she thought grimly, refusing to classify the smooch that Rookwood had offered in the same league.

"Oh?" She tried to sound unconcerned.

"Yes…I think that we may have hit on a valuable teaching technique."

_Kissing?_ She hoped that he was talking about kissing.

"Practical experience. Its better to _show_ you what I mean than tell you. Besides, I can't know where you need help unless I've seen it for myself."

She tilted her head, hiding her confusion as Lucius went on.

"Perhaps we ought to attempt a trial run?"

"Of?"

"The date." He said dismissively, as though this ought to have been obvious. "Where is it that Rookwood is taking you?"

"To Alchemy in London." She responded. "He said to wear something smart."

"And do you have anything smart to wear?" Malfoy cannily guessed that she did not.

When Narcissa only stared mutely, he continued. "Well, I suppose we ought to go shopping anyhow. You'll need a gown from the ball- and _don't_ tell me that you'll wear something of Bella's!"

That actually hadn't been what she'd meant to say at all. She did want a new gown, but she'd squandered most of the allowance her father had left her on some rather expensive potions agreements.

She was distracted again as she let her mind drift back to the potion.

Malfoy had "Most Potente Potions" in his possession now, so she hadn't been able to work on the project for days, but the treacle and lacewing syrup she'd been concocting had almost boiled down. That meant that it was only three more days until she'd be ready to add the final touch. She ought to be euphoric. Now, however, she was having second thoughts. Wouldn't it be better to try things Malfoy's way? It seemed to be working well enough. She'd rather be loved on her own terms than through a trick. Besides, she was beginning to doubt that Rookwood was worth a term in Azkaban if she got caught.

_Not like Lucius_.

She was almost used to the desire to box herself about the ears- the way she felt whenever she acknowledged that, in spite of believing for almost six years that Rookwood was the epitome of male perfection, he was nothing next to the Malfoy heir. She didn't dare let herself even think the dark idea that her mind had brushed against: of using the potion on Malfoy himself.

_It probably wouldn't work anyhow_. She assured herself. Even if it did, people would instantly suspect. Malfoy would receive an antidote and she'd be sent to prison left to rot with the Dementors and the thought of how he hated her churning in her mind for the next fourteen years…

"Narcissa?"

She'd drifted again. She had no idea what he'd been saying at all, and had to admit as much when he asked her if she agreed.

"I _said_ that we could go into town Thursday morning and you could see about a dress. My mother's stylist has a salon on the High Street. She could sort something with your hair, and there's a boutique across the way. I promised my mother I'd meet her for some last minute shopping but I could drop you and then we could meet later for our…practice date."

He emphasized the word "Practice" which Narcissa thought was only sensible, all things considered. No doubt he had a fleet of silly girls tossing their knickers at him and wanted to keep things between them in the clear.

That was one of the things that she liked about Malfoy: his foresight. He always had his mind clearly on a goal and wouldn't be swayed. She could learn from his example.

"Yes, I'd like that." She said trying to mimic his tone. "Well, I suppose that's settled then…I suppose that's all you need me for today?"

"Almost." He said.

"Oh?"

"Don't keep your eyes open when you kiss." He said calmly.

"Did I-?" But the rest of her words were muffled when Malfoy's mouth sealed over her own.

_Practical experience, _she reminded herself for her last conscious thought before her senses were overwhelmed. In spite of knowing what Lucius was about, it almost felt like he meant it. It was a desperate struggle- likened to keeping her head above water when she was learning how to swim. The temptation to let go- to quit fighting and simply sink into the warm, silky pool of pleasure he had created was almost too powerful to resist.

This time, he didn't make the mistake of before. He didn't hold the kiss so long that she lost her breath. His lips alternated their caress, peppering busses along her chin and neck, but always returning to her mouth before she had a chance to protest or pull away.

The kiss was more forceful than the last time, and instead of simply touching her with his lips, one of his palms curved around her waist. His hand slid up and down her ribs, its thumb almost-but-not-quite brushing her breast while the other laid heavily on the bend of her waist. He held her lower body against his, the fabric of their clothing barely a barrier as he backed their bodies against the door.

The wood made a quiet thud as her bottom pressed against it, but even when there was no place left to go, Malfoy didn't stop his forward motion. His hips tipped forward and she felt something long and hard press into her stomach. She didn't even know what it was, but it sent a shock racing through her body and, with it, a jolt of pleasure so strong that she reflexively pulled away.

Her body was trembling as she sank down the door, the only avenue of escape from the circle of Malfoy's arms.

"Narcissa, I…" He tugged her back to standing, but took a step away. His expression was now one of concern.

"Don't say it, Lucius." She said quickly, feeling very foolish for her panic and wanting to head his apology off. She was unsuccessful, however.

"I shouldn't have done that." Lucius said anyhow in a voice so heartbreakingly sincere that she wanted to curl under a rock and die. It was bad enough if he was sorry to have frightened her- but to regret that he had ever done it at all!

Narcissa could feel tears welling up in her eyes and so she spun away. Dodging Lucius's hands, she whipped around the door and into the hall. "Until Tomorrow, Lucius." She muttered, and then raced up the steps back to her room.

Once inside with the door safely latched she rummaged under the mattress for her diary, needing someone to talk to, even if it was an empty book. It wasn't there! She was certain that she had tucked it under her mattress the night before, but now it was gone.

_Bellatrix._

She felt sick as she sank to the ground, and started to wonder if it was even possible for the day to be more of an emotional roller coaster. She'd barely eaten breakfast and she'd already had to deal with Rookwood's flowers, Lucius's kiss, and now the missing book!

Luckily, Narcissa had weapons of her own to wield against her big sister to get the diary back. She was still glad, however, that she hadn't put her thoughts about Lucius down in words. She could only imagine what Bellatrix would do- probably run right to him so that they could both laugh at her foolishness- not that he wasn't laughing right now.

"_I shouldn't have done that."_ He had said. Narcissa felt another knife of pain in her stomach, but another, unnameable sensation as well as she thought back to the kiss. He had felt so strong holding her, so certain. When he'd moved against her, she felt a keening that she didn't understand. It was as if a fuse had been lit inside her body, burning toward an inevitable explosion. She didn't understand it- though she suspected that it might have something to do with why Bellatrix and Rodolphus spent so much time sneaking off to the Orangery, or why Remington Flint (before she bit him) had been so keen to get his hands up her dress.

Feeling unsettled, she dragged herself to the bath. Then, after she had soaked a while in the tub, she called the elf to arrange her hair.

Bellatrix was the only person home for lunch. She announced, in a tone of annoyance, that Rodolphus and Malfoy had gone into town to meet their friends, so Narcissa was spent to while away the rest of the day by herself, going to the lab and half-heartedly stirring the lacewing syrup and then taking a walk on Ravensden's grounds.

Eventually, after a light dinner taken in the smoking room with her sister, she retired to her room and fell asleep reading a book.

Narcissa was jolted awake sometime past midnight. The candle at her bedside had burned low. Gutting and sputtering on her bedside table, it cast only the dimmest of light and was no match for the moonlight that streamed through her window or the fire crackling in her hearth.

She wasn't certain at first what had awoken her, and groped automatically for her wand. "Who's there?" She called into the darkness.

There was no answer at first, and she felt her heart drop to her stomach as a large, dark form enclosed in a swirling black cape moved toward her bed. For a moment she thought it was a vampire, but then the figure stepped into the light and she released her breath.

"Malfoy." She said in a tone of clear relief. "What are you doing in here?"

She couldn't make out his expression in the dimness, but his tone was sheepish when he replied, "I was going to leave you a note."

"A note?"

"To remind you about tomorrow. We have an appointment."

"I didn't think you'd want to, after…" Her body was hot with embarrassment again as she remembered. "Well…"

"Of course I want to!" Lucius said quickly. "If you still trust me, that is."

"Trust you?" Narcissa had no idea what he was going on about, but she didn't question it. She was too relieved to learn that, even if he was sorry that he had kissed her, Lucius still wanted to be her friend. "Of course."

"Excellent." Lucius stiffened and stuffed something under his cloak.

_Flowers._ Narcissa thought wistfully as she caught a whiff of their perfume. He and Rodolphus must have been visiting girls in town. No wonder Bellatrix was mad.

"I'll collect you at breakfast then? Don't bother doing anything fancy with your hair. Madame Ursaline will sort it out at her salon."

Narcissa nodded her head. Then, after Lucius had gone, she snuggled down into her blankets and returned to pleasant dreams.

True to his word, Malfoy was waiting when Narcissa appeared the following morning for her meal. She was about to take a seat when Lucius stopped her. "Unless you're starving," He began, "there's a place near the salon that has an excellent breakfast spread."

"That would be nice." Narcissa agreed at first. Then she patted her head self-consciously. As Malfoy had instructed, she hadn't done a thing with her hair- she hadn't even combed it! At least she was wearing presentable, if baggy robes.

Lucius hesitated for a moment, but finally nodded. "I suppose you're right. Some other time?" Narcissa hoped her disappointment didn't show. She doubted very much that she would ever be able to call the raincheck in.

Feeling less hungry than before, she nibbled a piece of toast and a piece of orange. Then, after washing it down with milky tea, she rose again to her feet.

Narcissa hadn't passed her Apparation license yet, so they were forced to take the floo- a fact that Malfoy seemed to find exceedingly annoying. He grumbled all the way to the hearth. Only when Narcissa suggested that he Apparate ahead and meet her there did he cease his comments.

Luckily, it wasn't far to London, and Narcissa's robes were charmed against ash. In any rate, the grate at Madame Ursaline's salon was immaculate, so she didn't even have to dust her robes when she stepped out.

"You must be Lucius?" A plump, stern looking woman bustled forward, speaking to Lucius, but concentrating on the girl. Without preamble she poked Narcissa in the back, correcting her posture, and then began raking her stubby fingers through Narcissa's hair.

Miss Black wasn't quite sure how to respond. True she wasn't the most poised and glamorous of girls- but it was also true that she was a girl and not a horse. It hardly seemed fair that she should be poked and prodded like a Pegasus at a county fair!

"The meeting is when?" Madame Ursaline was still speaking to the Malfoy heir, who must have told her already about Rookwood's date because he answered "Tomorrow night".

The woman dipped her chin and snapped a finger for an assistant. They chattered quickly in French before she returned her gaze to Lucius. "I don't think that it will be hard. She has potential, this little one."

"Yes."

In spite of how spectacularly badly Narcissa's hopes had burned her the day before, she couldn't suppress a little surge of joy at the notion that Lucius thought she had "potential" too.

He circled around Narcissa, gauging the beautifiwitch's expression carefully. "Will it take long?"

"Until at least this afternoon."

"She has to go shopping too."

"Kiri will bring some gowns to the salon." Narcissa winced. She had forgotten that she didn't have any money. How was she even going to pay for the salon? She was about to voice an excuse when her attention was distracted by an incredible sight: the tubby old woman was shooing Lucius toward the door! "Just leave things entirely in my hands. You won't regret it."

"I'll be back this afternoon." Lucius promised. He gave Narcissa a reassuring smile. "I can't wait to see it. Six O'clock. Don't be late."

Narcissa flashed a smile in his direction when she was reminded of how their lessons had begun only one short week before. "I won't." She promised. "Malfoy's never wait."

Lucius brushed a kiss on her cheek. Then, with a nod to Madame Ursaline, he disappeared outside the door.

Narcissa felt suddenly very alone. Madame Ursaline and her assistants were still sizing her up like a cut of beef, and she felt completely alien in the salon.

All around, sinks and chairs were full of gorgeous young and not-so-young witches being styled into perfection. How could Narcissa ever hope to compete?

"Have you ever thought about changing the colour?"

Madame Ursaline's voice pulled Narcissa's mind away from her worries. "Not really." She replied, wincing slightly as the older witch yanked hard on the back of her hair.

"We'll need to decide on something before we send to Kiri's for the dress…Auburn perhaps?"

The reminder of the dress made Narcissa remember: she had no way to pay for any of this! She started to say, "I think I left my handbag at home-" But Madame Ursaline cut her off.

"You shouldn't need it here. Besides, that's on the list."

"List?"

"The list of things Malfoy said you were meant to buy."

Narcissa swallowed at the long strip of parchment that unrolled in the other woman's hand.

"That's…er…just it." Narcissa said anxiously. "My purse-"

"Oh, goodness dear! You don't need money! Malfoy's put it all on his account. You don't need to worry about a thing."

"But-" Narcissa stammered in protest.

"No buts, dear." Ursaline commanded. "We have to get busy. You're meant to be at the optician's by two."

This new bit of information took Narcissa off guard. An optician? How much planning- and expense- had this involved? 

"Yes dear. For your correction charms." She smiled indulgently at her charge. "Now go ahead and sit back." She withdrew her wand and tapped it once on the seat. "Just relax…this won't hurt a bit."

**A/N: Thanks again for the comments. They really make writing fun! **

**Mary: Allegiance isn't posted anywhere anymore. After weathering some fairly scathing reviews, we decided to trash it or at least keep it tucked away for a bit until we got the energy to rework it. Sorry! :(**


	4. Chapter 4

**NOTE: The rating of this story has CHANGED since I started it. I had forgotten, when I first dubbed this story PG-13, that it gets racy in parts. Please do not read on if you object to adult situations.**

**Chapter 4**  
  
Lucius tapped his cane impatiently and poked his head around the screen that set the waiting room apart from the salon proper. He wondered where Narcissa and Madame Ursuline had gone. A squat, steel-haired witch was having her hair charmed into ringlets, and a hag was having a facial near the window. Otherwise, the row of sinks and chairs was deserted.  
  
He bit his lip in frustration. He had been quite explicit in his request that Narcissa be ready to go to dinner no later than six o'clock. Of course, he didn't doubt for a second that the maitre d' at the Glass Slipper would hold their table. The Malfoys were far too illustrious patrons to risk alienation- but he was bitter of the thought of losing even one moment of their time together or of squandering a single chance to capture her attention from Rookwood. Scowling, he took a seat and snatched up six months old copy of _Witch Weekly_.  
  
_Enchantment in the Bedroom!_ The cover blared, along with _No-Fail Engorgement Charms Every Witch Should Know_ and _Kidnapped By Vampires: How One Witch Survived this Terrifying Ordeal_. He rolled his eyes and tossed it back onto the table. Narcissa was right. _Witch Weekly_ was a rag.  
  
Casting his eyes around the waiting room for something else to occupy his time, he couldn't help but notice a cool blonde sitting opposite him, smiling in a mysterious and captivating way. She was staring at him quite frankly. He could feel the heat of her gaze resting on his skin, but he didn't permit himself to meet her eyes. The action was quite rude, and he should have felt annoyed. Instead, he was simply unsettled. In spite of the fact that he hadn't forgotten Narcissa- and that he was annoyed with himself for fancying another girl when he was waiting for Miss Black to appear, he couldn't prevent a guilty glance from the corner of his eyes to drink in her appearance.  
  
She was nothing short of exquisite. Her rosy skin was glowing. Her bosom was plump and tempting, and she was wearing immaculately cut blue-silk robes that brought out the colour of her eyes.  
  
_Her eyes_. Lucius frowned. There was something familiar about them. Did he know her from somewhere? Intuitively, he felt that the answer was "yes", but he didn't trust himself to take a better look. If he looked up- if he dwelled too long on the near perfection that he had barely glimpsed before, he wouldn't be able to prevent himself from flirting...and he couldn't allow himself to do that. He was waiting on Narcissa- sweet, naïve, trusting Narcissa who deserved to be saved from Rookwood and other men who would drop her in a heartbeat for a pretty face. Well, there was more to her than that. He steeled his resolve. Narcissa might not be the height of fashion or epitome of grace, but he was more and more convinced this was merely a manifestation of the fact that she choose to think for herself, and not according to societal dictates. She was lovely inside- with her vivid imagination and guileless sweetness...but the blonde really was sensational.  
  
He sneaked another look.  
  
_Think about Narcissa!_ He growled under his breath as he forced his mind back on track. He wished that she would hurry up and arrive! Feeling extremely agitated, Lucius stood, stretched, and then looked around the barrier once more.  
  
"Looking for someone?"  
  
It was Miss Black's voice. Lucius frowned and spun around, looking for the girl, wondering how she had managed to creep up without being noticed. He still didn't see her, but he noticed that the blonde was moving toward him. No longer able to resist, his eyes flickered to her face. Suddenly, his mouth went dry.  
  
"Narcissa?"  
  
"Of course," She rolled her eyes heavenward, discounting his question as a joke. "Who else would I be?" There was no time to offer an answer. She had stooped to pick up a miniaturized but obviously still very heavy shopping bag and thrust it into his arms. "You're late."  
  
Lucius nodded, realizing this was his cue to offer some wry retort, but was rendered incapable of speech. He marvelled at the transformation. He had long-since decided that Narcissa was pretty, but now she was...  
  
"_Ridiculous!_" The girl said, pausing to sigh at her reflection in a mirror beside the door. "Go ahead, say it. I don't care."  
  
Lucius was thinking of something far different, but he still couldn't get words to form.  
  
"What do you think about the hair?" Narcissa asked, but didn't give him a chance to answer. "Madame Ursaline thought black, like Bella," she scrunched her nose. "As if I _want_ to be compared to her!"  
  
Obediently, Lucius's eyes swept over her hair. No longer mouse-brown waves, it had been arranged into a perfect fall of golden curls that were bundled atop her head. The style did more than brighten her face. It fully exposed her features to view, framing them perfectly. Messy fringe no longer obscured her eyes. Shadowed and lined to the height of fashion, they shone from her face like two polished jewels. He stared at them for a moment, transfixed. Then her mouth started moving and he let his gaze slide to her full, red-painted lips. Without volition, his thoughts raced back in time. He remembered what it was like to kiss them- how pillow soft they were. He remembered the rough velvet of her tongue, the light scratch of her now-manicured nails...  
  
"I do like the dress though." Failing to notice that Lucius wasn't paying attention, Narcissa turned. The skirt of her robes lifted and spun around her in a delicate swish of silk before settling back to the ground. "The one that I bought for the ball is even better! It's been ages since I've had anything new. Did you know that I'm two sizes smaller than Bella?"  
  
Lucius did not know, but he was not surprised- not that he was certain there was _anything_ that could shock him after this! The new robes hugged her slender body, demonstrating a tiny waist, long legs, and curves that he had no idea she had hidden under her baggy, hand-me-down clothes. He wondered what other secrets she was keeping.  
  
"Well, _say something_." Narcissa demanded as she finally strode through the door. The bells chimed in her wake and once again as Lucius followed her onto the street. "Is it that terrible?"  
  
"No." Lucius answered carefully, but inside, his mind was screaming _"yes!"_  
  
"You look beautiful, Narcissa." He said with sincerity he hadn't meant to give. "You look like..."  
  
"Bella?" She finished for him, scrunching her nose.  
  
"No." He assured her, but didn't elaborate. Some of the shock of seeing her was wearing off so now he was forced to admit that he had no right to be surprised. Hadn't he always thought she was pretty? Hadn't he argued to himself that she only needed some polish for her natural beauty to shine through? _Yes_- so why was he so miserable now that it had happened, now that it was clear to the whole world that the youngest Black sister was just as gorgeous as she was intelligent and sweet?  
  
"Where are we going?" Narcissa asked, stopping in on the sidewalk. Lucius glared at a wizard walking past who had paused to gawk at the stunning girl.  
  
"The Glass Slipper." He said, feeling a little of his confidence return as her eyes widened with excitement.  
  
"Oh, Lucius! Isn't that a bit...I mean...you don't have to- _its only me_."  
  
"I want to make sure that you're prepared for tomorrow." He cut her off crisply, holding out his elbow so that she could twine her little hands around it and permit him to lead her through the street. He swallowed a smug smile as he thought of how patently inadequate Rookwood's own offering was going to be after a night at wizarding London's most exclusive bistro.  
  
Most of the posh establishments were crowded together at the far end of Diagon Alley, so it wasn't a long walk before they reached their destination. They were early, but Lucius had planned for this.  
  
"Would you like to have a drink before we sit down?" He asked, helping her off with her cloak and leading her into the plush, stately interior of the restaurant.  
  
Narcissa tilted her head in answer. Lucius was amused by the uncommonly understated and elegant gesture. Perhaps she was changing in more than just appearance? The realization was surprisingly bittersweet.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy!" The Maitre d', a trim, graying wizard hurried forward. "And this must be Miss Black?" He said, looking rather impressed. He snapped his fingers and a pair of elves appeared to remove their cloaks, but Lucius waived them away.  
  
Lucius nodded proudly, letting his hand rest on the small of Narcissa's back to hold her close while he spoke with the other man. "I know we're rather early, Bernard." He said easily. "I thought perhaps we sit on the terrace until our table is ready."  
  
Of course, Lucius knew that, if their table _wasn't_ ready, Bernard would be conjuring a new one and evicting whatever couple had overstayed their welcome from the previous booking. He had arranged this plan the day before, requesting that the porch be reserved for his personal use. Nevertheless, the maitre d' played along with the pretence and, nodded his head solemnly. "Naturally, sir. Everything has been arranged as you requested. Shall I send out the bottle you sent over?"  
  
Lucius nodded his head, and then brushed past the man and up a small flight of steps to a secluded balcony. Narcissa was still holding his arm, trailing slightly behind him, so that he had to turn his head when they first stepped outside.  
  
The look of rapture on her face made his stomach somersault and he was reassured that his choice to bring her here had been the right one. Although the restaurant was on a busy street which, in itself, was sandwiched in the heart of London, light blocking wards had been cast so that there was a clear and perfect view of the winter sky. It had only just turned dark, but the stars overhead were so bright and numerous that it looked a though someone had scattered diamonds on a black-velvet cloth.  
  
"Oooh." Narcissa exhaled excitedly, rushing to the railing and craning her neck. She didn't spare a glance for the charming, rose-filled courtyard below. "Oh Lucius! It's amazing."  
  
"Surely you've seen it before?" He walked forward until he was standing beside her.  
  
"No. _Never_." Narcissa answered plainly. Lucius had to smile that, when they were alone, she was still the same, plainspeaking girl who had captured his interest. "I mean. I came to the Slipper for my birthday last year, but I never knew about this."  
  
"Well, I'm pleased you like it." He whispered against her neck. Narcissa stood suddenly straighter, as if a chill had run along her spine. Lucius initially smiled at this reaction, but the look faded when her shivering continued. "You're cold." He couldn't fathom why the Slipper, which had taken so much care to secure this view, wouldn't also have the foresight to cast a warming charm. Nevertheless, it did present certain opportunities. "Shall we go inside?" He asked in what he hoped was a discouraging tone. When she didn't reply, he moved closer, spreading his own cloak so that it covered her shoulders too. "At least let me share my cloak."  
  
In a heartbeat, Lucius's body temperature went from freezing to boiling. Narcissa's back was pressed into his front and every place that their skin connected was like a point of fire. He swallowed and tried to think of something distracting to say, but all he could think about was how close she was.  
  
"New perfume?" He asked, realizing that the exquisite fragrance tickling his nose wasn't coming from the flowers.  
  
"I never had an old one." Narcissa replied, but followed the remark with a musical, if self-depreciating laugh. "One of the ladies that came to the salon made it for me. It's meant to be my signature scent."  
  
"Mmmm..." Lucius seized onto the excuse to nuzzle at the base of her neck, trying to pick out the different notes. "Vanilla....orangeblossoms and..." He paused, frowning, trying to name the final note.  
  
"Narcissus." Narcissa replied. "She thought she was being clever."  
  
Lucius nodded, feeling faintly cheated for not being able to linger and figure it out. "Well, I think it's lovely."  
  
Narcissa shrugged and smiled. "Well, it was an extravagance, but that seemed to be the order of the day." She turned toward him, worriedly chewing her lip. "Oh, Lucius. I don't know how long it's going to take me to repay you for everything! I didn't realize it was so much until after they'd wrapped everything up. I'll speak to my father as soon as—"  
  
"Don't worry about it." Lucius said coolly, surprised that she would even mention it.  
  
"But, the correcting charms alone-"She raised her hand to her cheek where the spectacles no longer sat.  
  
"-were a gift." Lucius completed for her, struggling against the urge to kiss the place where her fingers had lain. "Think nothing of it. Merry Christmas."  
  
"But-"  
  
Lucius was grateful when they were interrupted by the appearance of the waiter. He was followed by a pair of elves porting a heavy silver champagne stand. They placed it near the railing, conjured a pair of cushioned seats, and then left the wizard to deal with the wine.  
  
With proper ceremony, he popped the cork, offered a glass to Lucius to inspect, filled two flutes with the bubbly liquid, and then made a graceful exit when Malfoy nodded his approval.  
  
Lucius offered one of the glasses to his date. "Would you care for some champagne?"  
  
"Yes, please." Narcissa answered eagerly, but she sipped slowly at the drink as though she were unused to alcohol's tang.  
  
Lucius smiled knowingly. "I'll order something sweeter for dinner." He promised.  
  
"No, it's lovely!" Narcissa protested. As though she felt the need to prove her sentiment, she took a long swallow that emptied half of the glass.  
  
Lucius felt he ought to tell her to go slower, but couldn't think of a tactful way to make the suggestion- she was trying so hard to appear grown up and refined!- he decided to let the matter pass. He drained his own flute, and then refilled the glasses.  
  
He gestured toward the seats that had been prepared, but Narcissa shook her head. "I'd rather stand a bit more if it's okay with you?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
She smiled and returned her attention to the sky. "The Blacks are all named after stars, you know...well, heavenly bodies at least."  
  
Lucius's lips twisted into a grin, but he suppressed the urge to parrot the obvious, juvenile line.  
  
"There's Orion." She swept her fingers over the constellation that shared her father's name. "The Andromeda galaxy....Bellatrix.....Sirius and Regulus-"she tipped off the stars for her sisters and cousins. "...and that's Rigel there. You can barely see it. That was my little brother's name." She finished quietly and took another drink.  
  
Lucius hated the sudden note of sadness in her voice. He moved to wrap the cloak around them both again and let one arm slide around her waist. "You've been lonely." He said quietly.  
  
"Yes." Narcissa looked down at her feet. "It's silly, isn't it? Being in the dorms and at home..."  
  
"You don't really get on with your sisters."  
  
"Oh, it isn't that." She finished her second glass of champagne and set the flute on the railing. "I love them both, of course- even Andy. It's just...well, they aren't like me." She sighed heavily. Her eyes flashed back toward the sky. "Narcissa isn't a star."  
  
"It's something different." He agreed, "But-."  
  
Lucius gritted his teeth as the door swung open again to admit another elf. "A delivery for Miss Black." The little creature announced solemnly, blissfully unaware of how very close it was to being hefted over the railing by Miss Black's date.  
  
"Delivery?" Lucius asked incredulously, peering around the elf to see a rather agitated looking owl fluttering around the foyer.  
  
"Yes, sir." The elf squeaked with a preposterous amount of dignity, "Quite persistent." He held out his hand and presented Narcissa with an exquisite bouquet of gardenias. "Shall I read the note, ma'am?"  
  
Lucius started to snarl "No." But was beaten by Narcissa's ecstatic "yes". She accepted the flowers happily, giving Lucius a secretive smile that made him wish, rather desperately, that they had come from him.  
  
"My dearest Miss Black." The elf read off the card. "One blossom for every hour until we meet again, Yours, Augustus Rookwood."  
  
Lucius snorted in disgust. It didn't matter that he'd been close to uttering something almost as lovestruck and foolish- he hadn't done- and at least he didn't seem to be drawing his inspiration from a wizarding wireless program. The next thing they knew he'd send singing cupids!  
  
Before Narcissa could protest, he plucked the bouquet for her hands. "Go put those in water." He shoved them at the elf. "We'll get them when we leave." He said, fully intending to forget them.  
  
"But-" Narcissa started to protest.  
  
"But, I think our table should be ready now." Malfoy finished, shooting the elf a meaningful glance. "Please inform Bernard."  
  
"Immediately, sir."  
  
Lucius half-dragged Narcissa off the balcony and stripped away her cloak. The gown she was wearing displayed a delicious strip of smooth, creamy skin filling Lucius with a strong desire to stare, so that he was actually grateful for the next interruption.  
  
"This way Miss, Sir..." Bernard said, rushing forward almost immediately and starting to usher them back into the restaurant proper. He led them along a hushed passageway, up a flight of stairs to a table on a broad landing in front of a window that must have been just above where they were standing before. Through the sparkling glass, the view of the sky was almost as spectacular as it had been outside.  
  
Lucius brushed away the menus. "Tell Louis to make something special." He said brusquely, "And see that we aren't interrupted again."  
  
Bernard nodded and scuttled away, leaving the two young people alone. An elf had carried the champagne inside, and Lucius topped of their glasses, emptying the bottle.  
  
Narcissa sipped thoughtfully. "I'm sorry if the flowers upset you." She said at last, breaking the long silence that had settled between them.  
  
"Not at all." Lucius said through gritted teeth. "Mr. Rookwood's enthusiasm is..." _Obnoxious. Cloying. Juvenile..._ the words streamed through Lucius's mind, but he finally said, "...a compliment to you."  
  
She laughed. The captivating sound took some of the edge off his annoyance, "More like a compliment to your lessons." She said. "He wouldn't give me the time of day before we started- you said so yourself."  
  
"Then Rookwood was blind." Lucius said with surprising passion. "And I was a fool." He added softly.  
  
He hadn't meant to say that. He made a note to go more slowly with the wine. Luckily, a glance to Narcissa showed that she either hadn't noticed, or hadn't minded the remark. She was staring out the window, looking at the stars again. The faint flicker of the candle on their table sparkled in her deep blue eyes.  
  
She didn't look back again until the sound of music below caught her attention. "Oh! They're dancing!" She said, craning her neck to look over the railing.  
  
"Yes." Lucius said, "Would you like to?"  
  
She smiled and arched an eyebrow as if surprised by the offer.  
  
"Well, you'll have to do it at the ball, won't you?" Lucius explained quickly.  
  
The grin on her face faded to a haughty smirk. "Lessons aren't necessary. I _know_ how to dance!" She said with surprising force. Grabbing his hand, she led him back down to the ground floor.  
  
Lucius hadn't gone so far as to plan the music. However, just as if he had, the music switched to a slow, sultry tune almost as soon as he and Narcissa reached the bottom of the stairs. They took a position like the other couples: hands clasped, bodies flush, and began to whirl around the room.  
  
Narcissa hadn't been lying. In between burying herself in books she must have carved out time for practice. She was as light and skilful on her feet as any partner he'd ever had. Although his attention never drifted from his companion, he could sense the other dancers around them making room, or pausing to simply watch the graceful pair.  
  
There was a smattering of polite applause when they were through, and the couples cleared the floor as the music shifted into a more up-tempo song.  
  
"I believe the waiter has brought our hors d'oeuvres." Lucius said, reluctant to leave.  
  
Narcissa nodded and they returned to the table.  
  
Their places had been set with a glass of white wine and a lovely little pillow of pastry stuffed with a mushroom and chicken filling. They were relatively quiet as they ate and drank.  
  
"This reminds me of the wine we drank last summer in France." Narcissa mused as she sampled a swallow and savoured it thoughtfully.  
  
"A family property?" Lucius asked, tasting it himself.  
  
"My aunt's home." Narcissa nodded. "It's a lovely place on the Southern Coast. Have you been there?"  
  
"We have a villa near Marseilles." Lucius confirmed.  
  
"Oh! I'm sure it's lovely."  
  
"It is....do you like to travel?"  
  
"More than almost anything." Narcissa continued to drink her wine. Almost as soon as her glass was empty, an elf appeared to fill it up. Her cheeks were growing pinker, and her smile larger, but it didn't occur to Lucius to complain. "I want to see the entire world!" She announced brightly.  
  
"The _entire_ world?" Lucius said, smiling at her.  
  
"Well, all of the nice parts." She corrected, smiling a little lopsided grin that Lucius hadn't noticed before but was certain he would dream about that night. "Australia and Argentina and Antartica and Antigua and..."  
  
She faltered for a moment, blinking in confusion as if she'd lost her place but laughed when Lucius quipped: "And those are just the A's!"  
  
They continued discussing travel for a while. Then their plates and glasses were removed and replaced with bowls of soup and goblets of shiraz.  
  
Narcissa took a bite of her soup, declared it delicious, and then concentrated on her wine. She must have noticed Lucius's scrutiny because she giggled and announced, "I'm not really allowed more than half a glass at dinner...usually."  
  
It was on the tip of his tongue to warn her that she ought not to overdo it now, but the next words out of her mouth stunned him so completely that he was physically incapable of speech. "You're very handsome, you know, Mr. Malfoy."  
  
Lucius felt his heart thud almost to a stop. He wasn't quite certain how to respond. He was pleased that she thought so, of course, but-  
  
"The ladies downstairs are all staring." She whispered, and must have been on her knees on the chair because she seemed to be crawling across the table toward him.  
  
Lucius felt obliged to mention that the ladies weren't actually staring at him. They were, in fact, glaring at Narcissa who, in her current position, was treating the male patronage of the restaurant to a generous view of her décolletage.  
  
"Er....thank you, Narcissa." He said, moving his wine glass at the last possible moment before she would have knocked it over. He wanted to push her back into her seat but had taken enough wine himself that he didn't quite trust himself to touch her naked skin.  
  
"They're jealous." She whispered in a voice loud enough to be heard throughout the restaurant. "They think that you are going to take me to bed."  
  
Lucius choked on his soup and, sputtering, was disturbed to find that his wine was the only liquid available to wash it down.  
  
"You could, you know." She giggled. He didn't know how it had happened, but she was suddenly sitting in his lap. "The door between our rooms doesn't lock. Daddy broke it trying to get into Andy's room when she was in there with some boy." She slid her fingers down his shirt. "No one would ever know."  
  
"I...er..." Lucius's chest felt tight. His _trousers_ felt tight. He had no idea how he was going to get out of this situation. Feeling rather desperate, he pushed her back into her seat. With what he hoped was a subtle flick of his wand, he turned her wine into water.  
  
Unfortunately, his efforts were wasted, as Narcissa simply reached around him and took his glass.  
  
"This tastes like grape juice." She said in a giggly tone.  
  
"That's because it's made from grapes," Lucius explained.  
  
"I know_ that_ silly." Narcissa said. She tilted her head, smiling goofily at his lips. "You're silly."  
  
"And _you're_ drunk." Lucius saw no further need to tiptoe around the truth. Their server arrived with their meals but he could see they would remain uneaten. He instructed the elf to take them back to the kitchen and wrap them to go.  
  
"Don't look so frowny!" Narcissa said, pouting. He wished she looked less delectable that way. "You should smile."  
  
"Why?" He snapped.  
  
"I love your smile." Her hands reached forward, plucking at the corners of his mouth and tugging them upwards. "It makes me feel..."  
  
He held his breath, hoping for a breakthrough. "What?"  
  
"Less Narcissa-like."  
  
"What's wrong with being like Narcissa?" he asked stroking her cheek and forgetting to stop her when she took another sip of wine. She took a long drink, and then used maddening care to lap the dregs from the corners of her lips. Lucius watched uncomfortably as her pink velvet tongue flicked over her skin.  
  
"Narcissa-like is boring." She said in a disgusted tone. "Narcissa-like is strange and quiet and ignored." She was crawling over the table again, staring at him intensely with her aquamarine eyes.  
  
"I don't think so." He countered slowly.  
  
"No. You don't." She tilted her head thoughtfully, "Why?"  
  
Lucius squirmed. "We should go, Narcissa." Lucius said, standing up abruptly, very grateful for the loose lines of his robes.  
  
He hurried forward and took her arm, guiding her steadily down the stairs. "Do you have a portkey, sir?" Bernard was hovering anxiously near the doorway. Lucius shook his head. They'd have to floo, which was a risk itself with Narcissa so lashed, or spend the night in London.  
  
Considering his options, Lucius finally decided that the latter would be best. Bellatrix and Rodolphus would hardly miss them, and he didn't want to take Narcissa out in this state.  
  
"No." He said at last. "We're going to stay in my flat."  
  
"Very well, Sir. Do you require transportation for the...er...young lady?"  
  
"Please."  
  
He wrapped Narcissa in her cloak as Bernard signalled the elves. A few moments later, a covered rickshaw appeared at the door.  
  
"Oooh!" Narcissa said, clapping her hands in excitement. "It's like China. Are the elves Chinese?"  
  
"No, Narcissa." Lucius said patiently. He slipped Bernard a handful of galleons in payment of their meal and to hopefully secure their welcome should they choose to grace the restaurant again. Nodding to the older man, he helped load Narcissa into the contraption.  
  
As soon as they were inside and he had told the address to the team of elves pulling the cart, he turned to Narcissa. Her arms were tucked around his elbow and her head had fallen heavily against his chest.  
  
"Sleepy?" he asked hopefully.  
  
"Not yet." Narcissa answered in a teasing tone that made his stomach clench in dread.  
  
It didn't take long before they stopped at Lucius's building. He alighted, and then handed Narcissa down, catching her as she almost fell.  
  
"Where are we?" She asked.  
  
"At my flat." He informed her. "For you to go to sleep."  
  
Her smile broadened. "You are taking me to bed!" She giggled.  
  
Lucius lacked the patience to correct her. Instead, he focused on helping her inside the foyer, and then to the lifts that took them up to his top floor loft.  
  
Lucius had been in the country for most of the fall, so the flat had an air of disuse. He was glad to see, at least, that the elves had kept things up. Narcissa nodded appreciatively as she looked around. "Very nice." She commented, flopping onto a white plush sofa. Reaching around her, Malfoy removed her cloak, and then knelt to take her shoes. "I'll bet you bring a lot of girls up here." She babbled.  
  
"Not as many as you'd think."  
  
"I bet I'm nothing like the girls who usually come."  
  
Of course, _that_ was true. Lucius couldn't remember a single woman in recent memory who possessed as much substance as Narcissa, or who captured his interest so completely, but he didn't say so. Instead, he took Narcissa's arm and hefted her to her feet.  
  
"Time for bed."  
  
Narcissa was past the ability to walk on her own. She leaned heavily on Malfoy for support as they wove down the hallway to the bedrooms of the flat. Lucius stopped at his mother's room, ushered Narcissa inside, and made her stop beside the bed.  
  
He undressed her like a child, trying not to pay attention to the contrast between the mature, stunning gown that framed her figure and the little girl knickers that she wore beneath.  
  
These last he left clothing her body and summoned one of his shirts from the other room. "Lie down, Narcissa." He coaxed when she was finally dressed.  
  
She was obedient at first, but abruptly sat up. "I don't feel so good." She moaned.  
  
"Do you-?"  
  
But he didn't have the sentence completed before she vomited onto the sheets.  
  
Lucius grimaced and looked away. Finding the bellpull, he summoned an elf to clean up the mess and change the bed, and then led Narcissa to the en suite in his adjoining room.  
  
Steering her toward the skin, he assessed the damage. She'd been sick down the front of the shirt and had ruined her bra as well. There was nothing to do but remove the offending garments and replace them with something else. He carefully stripped away the damp clothes, cast a refreshing charm on her mouth and then wetted a cloth and dragged it across her skin.  
  
In light of how badly the evening had gone, it seemed cruelly perfect that the part of her body she'd soiled happened to be the middle of her chest. It was pure torture trying not to notice the creamy swells that he was cleaning, or to ignore the rose-tipped nipples beading into pebbled knots beneath the touch of his hand.  
  
He was hard again. Given that he had shucked his robes at the door of his flat, his condition was fairly obvious. He hoped that Narcissa was too drunk to notice. She certainly wasn't making things any easier by the way she draped across his arms or laid her hand lightly against the fingers wielding the cloth.  
  
"Do you think I'm pretty, Lucius?" She asked quietly and very near his ear.  
  
"I think you're beautiful." He answered truthfully.  
  
She was staring past him now, looking thoughtfully into the mirror. "It's the hair." She said.  
  
"No."  
  
Narcissa's brow furrowed and she looked up into his face, but he was looking down, and their noses bumped. His first reaction was to jump away, but he had waited too long to succeed. Narcissa's hands had already shot around his neck and were dragging him against her lips.  
  
_This is wrong!_ Lucius admonished himself as Narcissa pulled him flush against her skin. He could feel the heavy curves of her bosom pressing hot and soft into his shirt and her fingers skittering beneath the fabric. "We can't." he panted, but didn't make any real attempt to stop. His fingers rooted into her hair, pulling the platinum locks out of their pins. He wanted to ruin her, to turn her back into _his_ Narcissa again before he spoiled her completely.  
  
"I wanted it to be you." She whispered against his ear. Lucius had no idea what she was talking about but he nodded his head. He bit his lip to suppress a moan as she rolled her hips into his. "I made you want me." She said as if this was an achievement to extol. "I made you want me yesterday too."  
  
A soft whimper was her only response. Lucius knew what he _had_ to do. He knew that this couldn't go any further, but he felt physically incapable to stop. His fingers were coursing over her body, refusing to obey his commands. _She won't thank you for this!_ His mind was screaming. _She doesn't know what she's doing! She doesn't know that it's you!_ But his heart was countering, just as loudly, that this might be his only chance.  
  
Tomorrow night, she would be with Rookwood. Rookwood would wine her and dine her, and Lucius didn't think for a second that his rival would play the gentleman even as well as Malfoy himself-a very low standard indeed. Rookwood was the man that Narcissa really wanted. She would give herself to him, fresh and innocent, never knowing how much more she deserved.  
  
"I need you." Narcissa puffed into his ear. If possible, she pressed herself even closer. He felt as if he were inside her already, melded on some level that he couldn't explain.  
  
He couldn't fight it. It might be wrong, but he had been wrong before. He'd be wrong again. It was a mistake that he wanted to make. Groaning aloud as the last of his restraint was broken, Lucius walked her backwards into the other room- his father's suite.  
  
Until they entered the hushed chamber, their caresses had been frantic and unrestrained. Now, however, he stilled her hands. He cupped her chin. Then, with aching tenderness, he brought his lips to hers; kissing her with a gentle passion that expressed, better than his words ever could, his wish that the illusion was over. When then finally broke apart, he led her to the bed. Gathering her body in his arms, he draped her onto the mattress, kissing every inch of her skin as he arranged her limbs and finally stripped the knickers away.  
  
His legs were shaking so badly that he could barely stand again when he dragged himself away, shucking his own rumpled clothes. His body felt like a spring that had been wound too tight. The slightest further provocation would break him completely. It physically hurt to look at Narcissa. Sprawled beneath him, her lithe young body was the picture of innocent perfection.  
  
Lucius knew that she had to be a virgin. She'd only been kissed by Remington Flint once before- _and Rookwood_, he added bitterly. He owed it to her to be slow and careful, and to make sure that this is what she really wanted.  
  
He crawled carefully over her, lowering himself until his flat, rippled stomach lying on her own. She felt criminally good, like sinking into a warm, soft pillow and he was nearly sick with anticipation of taking her for real. Still, he cared about her too much to rush headlong forward. She was drunk, but it was still possible for her to know what she was doing. He had to know that she was making a rational choice- that she was choosing _him_.  
"Narcissa," He said through clenched teeth, forcing himself to hold his body a little apart. "We don't really have to do this..."  
  
Lucius groaned when she didn't answer straight away. He had to hear her say "Yes, Lucius." He needed to know that she wanted _him_- that it wasn't just an alcohol-induced substitution for another man. "Narcissa, tell me..." but she still didn't speak.  
  
Lucius's heart froze in his chest. She had fallen fast asleep.

_TO BE CONTINUED_

**Love it? Hate it? Let me know!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Narcissa awoke to a pounding in her head and a low buzzing in her ears. She rolled over onto her side, reached for the curtains on her bed to shut out the bright, unwelcome morning sunlight, but frowned when she grasped only air. Slowly returning to consciousness, she noticed that the mattress beneath her felt odd. It was softer she was accustomed to and the coverlet felt like silk, rather than the heavy, timeworn quilt that she snuggled under at night. Anxiously, she opened her eyes, and then her breath caught in her throat.

She had no memory of the room that she was in. Unlike her cosy, untidy chamber at home, this room was vast and immaculate. Light, airy silk fabric decorated the walls and covered the bed where she slept. The material felt cool and slick against her skin- a sensation which gave Narcissa an additional cause for panic. She was completely naked beneath the sheets.

Heart throbbing, Narcissa skimmed her hands over her body, goosebumps rising in their wake. There wasn't any sign that anything had happened, but she couldn't recall a thing about the night before!

Dragging the sheet around her shoulders, she slid nervously out of bed and peeked into the hall, trying to locate some clue of where she was- and who had brought her there. There was a flash of movement beside her and she quickly spun around. A woman was standing next to her, bundled into a sheet just as Narcissa was, staring open mouthed.

She screamed, and then felt foolish a moment later when she realized that she was only looking at her reflection. She didn't recognize herself.

Flushing furiously, Narcissa lifted a hand to her hair. The styling charm that had been cast on it was a good one- her curls were still nearly perfect and the makeup on her face hadn't smeared or faded. It was easy to see what she initially thought she was someone else.

Narcissa started to walk toward the mirror, but a wave of nausea stopped her in her tracks. She felt stiff and altogether wretched. Was she sick? Was that why someone had brought her here? 

She was close to an answer. Her subconscious was dangling the truth in front of her like a carrot before a horse but she couldn't quite seize it yet. Waiting for her stomach to settle, she sat back on the edge of the bed and continued her study of the room. She noticed that there was something on the bedside table. It was a large bouquet of snow coloured blossoms- gardenias by their scent- with a card tucked between their stems. A second note was folded and sitting next to them. She reached for the card in the flowers first.

"My dearest Miss Black," The note began in a spare, heavy hand that she recognized as Rookwood's. She felt a flutter of panic. She hadn't spent the night with Augustus- had she? She felt as if she would be sick again. Luckily, the rest of the note assuaged her fears, "One blossom for every hour until we meet again."

Narcissa released a breath she hadn't known she was holding. But if she hadn't come here with Rookwood, then...

_Lucius_.

Like a wave breaking over a rock, realization crashed, drenching her in a renewed sensation of dread. The memories returned swiftly, each more mortifying than the last. He had taken her on a "practice" date and offered her a glass of wine. She'd drunk too much. Narcissa began to shake as she remembered: _You're very handsome, Mr. Malfoy._

_If only that were the worst of it!_ Narcissa's skin burned as she recalled the other things that she had said- that she had offered. Of course, Lucius had been too much of a gentleman to resist- not that he would ever debase himself by even touching her!

Narcissa's awareness of her own nakedness was renewed and she slumped slowly back onto the bed. Malfoy had been trying to take care of her, and she had acted like...like...

_Like Andromeda_. A voice in her head taunted, tormenting her with the knowledge that Lucius probably thought the pair of them were just the same- that she'd be cavorting with Muggles and Mudbloods next! She didn't think that she had ever been so ashamed.

When she finally worked up the energy to open her eyes again, she spied the folded note sitting next to the flowers by her bed. Steeling herself, she opened it.

As she expected, it was from Lucius. She didn't think that she had ever seen his writing before, but it seemed to fit his personality. Economical but elegant, he had written only six short lines:

_I hope that you are well and will be able to enjoy your date with Rookwood tonight. I've instructed the elves to prepare a hangover potion. Ring for it when you are ready. I regret that I shall be unable to see you home. Business may detain me in London for some time. One of the elves will have a portkey to Ravensden. _

_Regards,_

_Lucius Malfoy._

He didn't even want to be in the same house with her! This realization hurt more than all the rest combined. She knew that she had been foolish to even dream that Malfoy might be interested in her as a woman, but now she had squandered his friendship as well.

She threw herself back onto the mattress, wishing that she had a time turner to go back and make it all go away. What could she do? There was nothing. Lucius thought her a hopeless tart- and who could blame him? She hadn't done one sensible thing since he first stepped foot in her home!

This had to end.

Narcissa clenched her eyes, refusing to give way to tears. She still had Rookwood, didn't she? She had liked him once. Besides, he was as much as she could rationally hope for. She wasn't the sort of women that men were meant to love. Perhaps it would be easier to simply settle for comfort now? Compared to Lucius, it was easy to see that Augustus was rather ridiculous and not nearly as handsome as she had first imagined, but she had something that he wanted: favour with her father, and money, and a name. He seemed to be learning to overlook her lack of beauty and poise. Besides, maybe if it was abundantly clear that she was finished being a silly girl- that she didn't harbour any delusions that Lucius might really fancy her- she'd find a way for them to talk again? It didn't have to be much. She knew that it couldn't be, but she would miss him if they never spoke again. They had been acquainted for such a short time, but she already felt that he understood her like no one else.

Yes, it was really the only way.

Narcissa exhaled slowly and tried to concoct a plan. Surely she had spent enough years mooning after Rookwood to convincingly portray a woman in love! She would make sure that Lucius never doubted it again- that she never gave him cause to suspect that she had cared- _still cared_- for someone other than Augustus.

She would begin by applying what she had learned.

Resolutely crawling back out of the bed, Narcissa stood in front of the mirror and inspected herself again. She didn't have a terrible body. She really hadn't paid much attention before, but the shop owner who had brought over her robes had plenty of complimentary things to say about her bosom and little waist. She would do well to showcase them. What colour was it that Rookwood liked? She found the bag of robes that she had bought the day before, deminaturized it and started sorting through her purchases.

_Lucius likes me in blue._ She thought, remembering with a pang the playful conversation they had had during their very first lesson the week before. She pushed all the blue dresses to the side. Rookwood probably liked silver, or another dark colour- something staid and stately.

Fishing to the bottom of the bag, Narcissa found the robes she had been thinking of: bias-cut velvet in Slytherin Green. The front was cut in a deep V that emphasized her neck and had long sleeves and a close-cut skirt that added to the appearance of elegance. She had matching jewelry as well- _How Malfoy was going to regret it when he discovered how much she'd spent! In spite of what he'd said, she had to find a way to repay him as soon as she could- _a faux-emerald necklace and dangling earrings.

After putting on her garments and inspecting the effect in the mirror, she refreshed the styling and makeup charms as she'd been taught by Madam Ursaline the day before. Then she gathered her belongings and headed to the door.

The hangover potion wasn't necessary: adrenaline had done wonders for clearing her head, but she did summon an elf for the portkey. It took her almost instantly back to Ravensden Hall- where she met a rather stunned Rodolphus on the stairs.

"Hello, then?" He said, not recognizing her at first.

Narcissa sighed sadly, "It's only me."

"Where have you...? What have you...?" He stammered in disbelief, his mind and his mouth missing gears.

Before Narcissa could answer, Bellatrix had appeared as well. "By Zeus's thunder!" She exclaimed. "Good Gods Cissa! What on Earth have you done?" 

"Is it terrible?" Narcissa shuffled her feet, feeling even more pathetic in the presence of her perfect sister.

"Yes." Bellatrix spat at the same time Rodolphus gave an emphatic:

"No!" 

Ignoring the black gaze he had earned from his soon-to-be fiancé, Rodolphus spoke quickly. "You look sensational Narcissa. I had no idea!"

She supposed that he had meant it as a compliment, but she only heard what he didn't say: that she hadn't been pretty before, that she'd been boring, plain, barely magical at all Narcissa before Lucius came into her life.

"Why are you crying?" He said awkwardly.

Narcissa savagely dabbed away the drop of moisture pooling in the corner of her eye.

"I'm not crying!" She replied.

"Of course she isn't crying." Bellatrix, still pouting, had curled her arm possessively around Rodolphus's waist. "Why would she cry? Today's her big day."

"Big day?" Lestrange still looked quizzical.

"Her date with Rookwood, of course." Bellatrix said in a snide tone. "The God on Earth is going to be here at seven o'clock to spirit her away."

Narcissa stiffened, but then remembered that she was meant to a woman thoroughly smitten, so she giggled girlishly. "I can't wait." She tittered.

Bellatrix looked sceptical and arched a brow. "Well, in any event, I hope that you can manage things here alone. Rodolphus is taking me out for a special dinner too."

"Oh?" Narcissa met her sister's eyes, some of her annoyance melting when she saw the hopeful glimmer there.

"He said there was something that we needed to discuss." She said pointedly and looked as if she was fighting to swallow a smile while Rodolphus shuffled his feet nervously. "You _will_ be back in time to keep Lucius entertained, won't you?"

"Actually, that won't be necessary."

Narcissa had opened her mouth to beg off when Rodolphus spared her the effort. "Malfoy sent me an owl this morning. He said that something had come up in town and...er...he won't be able to make it back."

"What came up?" Bellatrix frowned, looking directly at her sister. "You were with him last night, weren't you, Cissa?" 

"Er...last night." She blanched, wondering how much her sister knew.

Happily, not a lot, as she revealed when she continued, "Yes. He must have brought you home past midnight because I didn't hear you sneak in."

"We were...er..." Narcissa chewed her lip, hoping that the pinking charm wasn't getting on her teeth, "held up in London because...we...had....forgotten my shopping bags and had to go back." 

"The shops were opened at midnight?" Rodolphus looked unconvinced.

"For the Blacks they are." Bellatrix said in a sniff, unintentionally sparing her little sister a reply. "...and for the Lestranges." At this, both Bella and Rodolphus fell into dreamy smiles, so Narcissa took this as her cue to escape. She continued up the stairs and made her way into her room.

The perfect, unmussed bed that she hadn't slept in the night before loomed before her reproachfully. She had to struggle against the childish urge to mess it up just to rid her of the reminder of where she had last fallen asleep.

It was hours yet until she could conceivably begin preparing for her date, so she tried to distract herself with a book. The first one was a mistake, "Cursed Heart", a Mills & Goon that she had stolen from Andromeda's room. The _last_ thing she wanted to read about now was Caspian Sorcier's "throbbing wand of passion," and so she tossed it aside and reached for something else.

"Lovestruck. Brew and Spell Your Way to Romantic Enchantment." Was the next volume down. Narcissa rolled her eyes. She had purchased the book at Flourish & Blotts two years earlier when her fascination with Rookwood was just reaching its fanatical zenith. Back then, she'd been looking for any way to turn his head. To her disappointment, the book was filled with glamours and simple beautifying potions. She shouldn't have been surprised. One could hardly expect the recipe for an illegal love potion to be readily for sale in Wizarding London's High Street. To find that, she'd had to dig deeper...

Narcissa sat up quickly. That was it! The love potion!

She glanced at the calendar beside her bed. She had completely forgotten the lacewing syrup. She'd charmed the cauldron to stop boiling when the potion was complete. No doubt it was underneath her father's study waiting for her now. All that was left was a lock of her beloved's hair...but whose?

_Not Lucius!_ She told herself forcefully. He wouldn't thank her if he found out and he'd probably be expecting such a silly trick after what had happened the night before. It had to be Rookwood. She'd get the hair tonight, and then slip him the potion at the ball. If she drank a little of it herself, it would all be over. He'd be in love with her, and she'd be in love with him. It was simple. People fell in love at balls all the time- most importantly, Lucius Malfoy would be out of her mind for good.

Heart in her throat, Narcissa slipped down the back staircase and sneaked into her father's room. She had to admit, being constantly ignored had its advantages. Orion Black hadn't even noticed his youngest daughter curled up on a pillow in the corner of his library a year ago when he had pulled out the third volume of the "The Illustrated Encyclodpedia of Tasseomancy", tapped it with his wand, and descended into his secret lab below. Three days later, while he was at his office, Narcissa had first dared to enter the sanctum. It had felt like her first visit to Honeydukes. Orion's lab was stocked with a great many substances she couldn't find at school or purchase on the streets, although she was always careful not to be too noticeable about what she took. Even better was his library. Ranged around a shelf (the covers cleverly disguised as harmless books on Ancient Runes and Quidditch Strategy) had been even more of a goldmine. She finally found the instructions she needed to make Rookwood hers for life- and she was determined to finish what she had started.

After checking that the syrup was complete, Narcissa got out the other ingredients that she needed. The instructions that she was following were from _Most Potente Potions_- which Lucius Malfoy still had, but she thought that she remembered them well enough to finish what was left.

It took a surprisingly long time. There was bicorn horn to grind, beetle eyes to pluck and separate and mix into a paste, fresh-picked rosethorns to add and, finally twenty drops of Narcissa's own blood- one each for the number of years that she wanted the charm to last. By the time that she had the final potion on to boil, it was after time for tea. 

Slightly panicked, Narcissa cleaned up her mess, and then rushed back upstairs to her room. She had already selected her gown, but there wasn't time for a bath. She swept her wand over her body, and then called the elf that Lucius had given her to fix her hair and help her into her dress.

By the time that the doorbell rang, Narcissa looked perfect. Even she had to admit to herself that she looked good- not that she still didn't find it hard to believe that the girl in the mirror was really her.

She let one of the elves open the door and, as she had heard her sister advise once long ago when she was only half-listening, let him wait in the foyer a few moments before she started drifting down the stairs.

"Good evening Mi-"Rookwood's voice trailed off, eyes bulging as she drifted down the final flight. Narcissa held her lips in a firm line, but wanted to frown- he looked disconcertingly like the utterly vapid Wilton Goyle when he wore that look on his face.

"Have I kept you waiting, Mr. Rookwood?" She asked when she finally reached the foyer. She knew that she had. _Malfoy's never wait._ Her mind taunted, but she ignored it, grateful that the little voice would soon be silenced forever.

"It was my pleasure." Rookwood answered, blinking and composing himself. He offered her his arm, "And I insist that you call me Augustus, Miss Black."

She thought it was rather soon to be losing the formalities- though, come to think of it, she had always let Lucius use her given name- and she didn't want to reciprocate, but manners dictated that she did. "Then you must call me Narcissa." She replied.

"Of course, Narcissa." She hated how he said it. "Nah-ceesa." Swallowing the "r" and needlessly elongating the vowels.

Narcissa's thoughts would have lingered on the annoyance, but she reminded herself that this was counterproductive. She was going to be spending the rest of her life with Rookwood. She ought to be concentrating on the things that she _did_ like.

It took a surprisingly long time to remember what those things were. _He's intelligent..._She reminded herself, thinking of how her father was always praising some or another legal opinion that Rookwood had pulled together cutting through the facts of an ambiguous case. _He's from a good family_. The Rookwoods weren't rich, but their bloodlines were impeccable. If something were to happen to his older brother, he'd stand to inherit his fair amount. _He's busy._ She initially began to approve that fact that the long hours he spent at the office would give her plenty of time to indulge in her own interest in potion brewing and writing but then she reminded herself that this wasn't necessarily a good thing.

Rookwood grabbed her cloak from the house-elf and slipping it onto her shoulders. This at least earned a smile. She'd always thought it sounded extremely elegant when a man helped a woman into her cloak. She'd written in her diary about it just a few days earlier...

The thought of the missing journal made her frown, but she didn't have time to dwell on it as Rookwood was already rushing her out the door. "Have you eaten much today?" He asked.

"No." She replied truthfully. She hadn't been in a state for breakfast and after coming home she'd been too intent on her task to eat.

"Excellent." Rookwood said in a smug voice, "You're in for a treat."

They took an enchanted Taxi into London and then walked from the Leaky Cauldron into Diagon Alley. Unlike the Slipper, Alchemy was squashed in the basement of a wizarding painting gallery in the trendy, but less-affluent East end of the street. They were very near to Knockturn Alley, and it was getting late, so Narcissa didn't mind the possessive way that Rookwood was holding her arm. He led her down the steps into the vestibule of the restaurant.

Unlike at the Slipper, it was clear that the maitre d' had no idea who they were. He peered at the list with his spectacles, frowning until he finally found the name. "Ah...yes." He looked quizzically from Narcissa to Augustus and then shrugged. "If you'd follow me, Mr. Rookwood...Madame."

_Mademoiselle. _For some reason, Narcissa felt like correcting him, but she didn't. She kept her lips forced into a tight smile as they meandered through the dimly lit tables to the back of the room.

In credit to Rookwood, it was not a shabby place. She recognized several faces as they wandered through: Kevin Moran, rookie Quidditch player for the Belfast Banshees was there with a girl who sang on Wizarding Wireless. Gilderoy Lockhart, who'd just written a bestselling Defense Against the Dark Arts book that Narcissa was dying to get her hands on was also there, surrounded by a bevy of male and female admirers. There were a few other people she'd seen on chocolate frog cards but, by the time they reached their own table in the very rear of the restaurant half-way hidden behind a plant, they were back to the hoi-polloi.

Nevertheless, the maitre d' made a careful ceremony of presenting their menus, and then handing the wine-list to Rookwood. He looked rather grim as he consulted it. Narcissa didn't wonder why when she saw the prices.

"I'd rather not have any wine." She said, only partly to be kind. After the night before, her stomach was revolting at even the thought of a sip of champagne.

"Don't be ridiculous." Rookwood scoffed, slapping the menu down. As Narcissa feared, when the sommelier appeared, he pointed arbitrarily at a bottle of red near the top of the list.

"What are you going to eat?" he asked before Narcissa was ready. She was trying to guess how much money he would have left after the wine.

"I don't care." She said with a sigh and put the menu down. "Why don't you order for me?"

Rookwood grunted his approval of this idea and gave a smug nod. When the waiter returned, he selected matching meals of mid-list pork and an appetizer of mixed-green salad.

They were dancing in the middle of the restaurant, and Narcissa looked toward the couples wistfully, remembering the night before. She wished that the whole evening could have been like the dance that she and Lucius had shared: fun, easy and effortless.

"Ridiculous." At first Narcissa thought her date had somehow heard her thoughts, but then she saw him follow her gaze onto the floor. "I don't know why people feel the need to make such a spectacle of themselves. Any savage can dance."

_He's read that in a book somewhere._ Narcissa thought, and tried to assuage herself with the thought that, at least, Rookwood was literate, but she couldn't bite back the declaration. "I love to dance."

"Well," Augustus said as though he were employing an extreme degree of patience. "You're very young."

Narcissa supposed that this meant she should be cured of such foolish whimsy with the passage of years, but that struck her as rather sad. She didn't _want _to forget how to take joy in simple things, even if it was more elegant and mature...but she ought to. Rookwood was just the sort of man that she was meant to be with- the sort of man that everyone expected her to marry: someone who was solid and respectable and could keep her feet on the ground. That wasn't a bad thing. It was good to be sensible. She needed the balance. It had always appealed to her before and she was certain, after she had grown calmer about the night before, that she would feel that way again.

She continued soothing herself until their wine arrived. The server made an extreme show of presenting the bottle and then the cork. Rookwood was an enthusiastic participant in the routine, theatrically exaggerating every sniff and slosh of his glass before pronouncing in a solemn tone: "Oaky, with a hint of smoke. Light berry finish. Excellent polish." And a half-dozen other things that Narcissa doubted very much had anything to do with the wine but were meant to sound impressive. He poured himself a glass, and then filled her own.

"I'd like to propose a toast." Rookwood said gathering the goblet in his hand.

Narcissa's heart lifted, hoping that he was about to say something romantic. She curled her fingers around the glass's stem.

"To us." He said intently.

"Us?" Narcissa frowned at the wine. It seemed a bit soon to be declaring themselves a couple. "It's only our first date."

"Ah, Narcissa." He set his glass back on the table and reached forward to take one of her hands. He held her tiny palm in one hand and stroked it with the other. "Of course I've known how you feel about me."

"You have?" She wasn't certain how to feel about this announcement. If he'd known all along, why hadn't he done anything about it before now? Feeling suddenly uncomfortable, she tried to change the topic.

"I believe this wine is Italian." She began, cannibalizing a conversation that had worked the night before. "I do so love Italy in the summer months. Tell me, Mr. Rookwood. Do you travel much?"

"Not if I can help it." He said, taking a long draught of his wine. "Luckily, your father takes most of the trips."

"You don't enjoy it?" She asked, astonished.

"Of course not!" he replied. "It's a wretched business: packing, unpacking, floo powder and hotel meals." He scrunched his nose. "I don't know how other people abide it. The City's well enough for me- with perhaps the occasional holiday on Jersey or maybe Skye. I don't know why everyone's so wild to go abroad. Anything worth having is right here in Britian."

"But don't you think it broadens the mind?" She pressed, unwilling to surrender so easily this time.

Augustus snorted, "People always speak of broadening one's mind as though it is always an improvement. Some people's minds can become overbroadened. They lose focus on what's important. Your sister for example..." Narcissa stiffened. Her fingers curled dangerously around the knife that she was using to butter her bread.

"Your father told me that he caught her reading a bunch of Muggle poetry."

"_Sonnets from the Portuguese_." Narcissa remembered sharing the book with their sister. Andromeda had gotten it from a shop on Portabello Road when she was meeting her friends in town. They thought it was terribly romantic that the author, and her husband had romanced each other by letters and then eloped. The drawings inside were disappointingly still, but were still quite lovely, and the poems had struck both girls as exceedingly romantic. "I don't see anything wrong with that."

"My point exactly."

"Your point?" Narcissa failed to see what he was getting at.

Rookwood gave another long-suffering sigh. "Yes, well it isn't a very far jump from Muggle love poems to Muggle-loving is it? Andromeda proved that."

Narcissa sat her fist heavily on the table, silverware clanking so that the couples around them turned to look. "How clumsy of me." She muttered, and stared darkly onto her plate.

"I say, Narcissa." Rookwood said, "Is something wrong?"

"I didn't sleep well." She replied. It was more or less the truth. She prayed that was the reason that everything that Rookwood did or said was getting on her nerves. She didn't want to think that he really was as pompous and awful as he seemed.

"Why not?" he asked.

Narcissa didn't really want to answer. Instead, she pushed back from the table and stood. "I need to find the ladies' room." She announced, and then spun around. Without giving the gentleman a chance to stop her, she rushed back through the restaurant. As she walked, her gaze drifted around the room. 

The Quidditch players were still drinking. The Wizarding Wireless star was laughing and petting her date. Gilderoy Lockhart was sitting inappropriately close to Roy Sigfried and...

Narcissa's blood ran cold: Lucius Malfoy was sitting at the prime table by the window with the one of the most ravishing brunette witches she'd ever seen!

..ooOOoo..

"And so I said to him 'You're absolutely raving if you think I'd ever agree to that! Take it away!' Can you believe it, Lucius? Can you?....Lucius?"

Lucius blinked and turned back toward his date, trying to remember what on earth the woman had been talking about. It was probably something to do with Athenons or Abraxians or some other variety of Pegasus that Lucius lacked the patience to keep straight.

"You haven't listened to a thing I've said." The words were more amused than reproachful, and Lucius was grateful. He'd known Kitty Slater since nursery school and she was one of the few women of his acquaintance who could always be counted upon to be sensible- unless she was speaking of her horses. "Who is she?" She asked with a smile, taking Lucius utterly by surprise.

"What?" he gasped.

"Who is she?" Kitty said again, giggling. She looked past Malfoy. "She must be in here somewhere. You've been staring around all night."

Lucius frowned. He knew that Kitty's interest in him didn't go beyond remaining friends, but it was disconcerting how easily she'd seen through his mask. She was right, he had been stalling at placing an order for the better part of an hour waiting for Narcissa and Rookwood to arrive.

He knew that he shouldn't be there- Narcissa wouldn't appreciate his intrusion on her evening and, besides, he was only torturing himself by hanging around, but he really couldn't imagine anything worse than the hours he had passed since leaving her the night before. He'd replayed the "practice date", and its aftermath in his mind for hours unable to sleep or even think. He forced himself to leave the flat before Narcissa awoke, and then drifted aimlessly to his father's office to play at working for a while. Kitty's owl announcing that she was in town early and asking if he'd meet for dinner had been a blessed relief.

His suggestion that they dine at Alchemy had surprised them both. It was just the sort of place he hated: crowded, trendy and more about being seen than impeccable food and elegant service. She had consented to come, but had been wearing a suspicious smirk half the night that Lucius finally understood.

"Well." Kitty kicked him under the table in a not-so-subtle reminder that he hadn't answered her question. "I assume that she has a name?"

"Narcissa Black." He answered slowly, and watched her eyebrow arch.

"Really?" She sipped her wine with rather more care and restraint than Miss Black had the night before. "You're branching out."

Lucius felt his hackles rise, "And what, may I ask, do you mean by that?"

"She's a bit different from your usual type."

"I don't have a type!"

Kitty wisely chose not to dispute him but merely pressed on. "She's Bellatrix Black's little sister, isn't she? Quiet little thing? Was she at Hogwarts while we were there?"

It bothered Lucius that he didn't know the answer to the question. Surely she must have been? Had he overlooked her like everyone else? The vague memory that she'd gone to Beauxbatons flooded his system with relief. "No." He announced, "She was in France."

"What's she doing here?" Kitty asked.

"She's on a date." Was the miserable reply.

"Oh, dear." Kitty returned, taking another drink.

"It's a long story."

"Well," She grinned and tipped her head toward the still unused menus, "it would appear we're going to be all night."

Lucius smiled weakly. "I don't even really know where to begin I-" but suddenly his voice died off, as his eyes seized on the very woman that he was talking about.

Lucius didn't mean to stare, but his eyes didn't seem to be under his own control. He drank in her form like it was water soaking into sand. She was exquisite. Every time he saw her, she took his breath away again. He didn't care for the colour of her robes- a deep green- but the cut suited her perfectly.

Kitty gave him a puzzled glance, but she finally traced the face, "_Well done, Malfoy!_" She laughed. "I see that I made a mistake."

Lucius was too distracted to pay his companion any notice until she stood up out of her seat. "I think I need to use the ladie's" She said mischievously.

It took him a moment to figure out what she was about. "No you don't!" He exclaimed fiercely, but it was too late, Kitty was already beyond his reach. Unless he wanted to chase after her- and he didn't put it past her at all to make a scene – he would simply have to wait.

..ooOOoo..

Narcissa stared into the mirror blindly, still barely recognizing her reflection. She had no idea how long she had been standing in the ladies lounge. She had a tube of lipstick out, and had made a pretence of dabbing it on her lips, but she was running out of excuses to linger.

What was the matter with her? Narcissa tortured herself with the question, even though she didn't really want an answer. There was absolutely nothing wrong with Rookwood. True he didn't share her view on as many topics as she had always imagined, and he had been somewhat insensitive about Andromeda's defection , but it was nothing beyond the ordinary. He had been a perfect gentleman on their date so far, and he had made a lot of effort- and gone to considerable expense- to ensure that she had a lovely time. She _wanted _to enjoy herself. Only two week earlier she would have been in heaven. Now she could barely muster the energy to smile!

Strange as it seemed, she felt as if the girl staring back at her really was someone else. It wasn't just the way she looked, she felt different on the inside too. She was more sure of herself and what she wanted- and that no longer seemed to include Rookwood. So much had changed over the past two weeks! Her lips twisted into a dark smile. It was as if her life was divided into two eras: before and after Lucius.

There was really no sense pretending that she didn't want him. She sighed heavily and, heedless of what it was doing to her glamour charms, splashed some water on her face. Maybe it would be better to simply talk to him? If she explained _why_ she had acted the way she did, but assured him she knew it was ridiculous, maybe that would make things alright?

_No._ She sighed, dismissing the idea. That would never work. She would only underscore how naïve and unsophisticated she was.

Narcissa sighed heavily and permitted herself a short, yet guilty indulgence to think of him for a while. He looked so perfect sitting in the middle of the restaurant, so completely in command of the room. Even the famous witches and wizards were looking his way as she passed their tables on the way to the ladies. She shivered as she remembered the electric shock that she felt when she met his eyes- and then the wretched, plummeting sensation a second later when she spied the witch at his table. What she wouldn't do to be that girl: confident and serenely beautiful. She was clearly the kind of woman that Lucius was meant to with.

"Excuse me, but aren't you Narcissa Black?"

At the sound of her voice, she spun around, and then did a double take. It was as if she had conjured the woman out of her mind! The very girl who had been sitting at Lucius's table was standing behind her at the mirror.

"Er...yes." Narcissa said slowly. She put her lipstick to her mouth again. Her lips were already sporting several layers of dusky pink, but she didn't want her rival- _now when did I start thinking of her like that-_ to know that she had simply been staring off into space.

"I thought so." The girl sidled up beside her. "I'm Kitty Slater...You're friends with Lucius. He's talked about you."

Narcissa's stomach twisted. How much did this girl know? She felt sick at the image that passed through her head: Lucius and this pretty stranger laughing at how pathetic she'd been. No doubt the girl was here to tell her off for even attempting to entice a man so clearly out of her league. To Narcissa's astonishment, however, when she looked up the girl had a pleasant smile on her face. "You're very pretty." She said bluntly.

Narcissa blushed. "Uh...thank you." Good manners took over where conscious thought began to fail. "Are you having a nice evening out?"

The woman shrugged. "I've had better. This restaurant is overrated." She waved her hand in a lazy circle, but then gave Narcissa a conspiratorial smile, "With any luck though, we'll have an early night."

Narcissa didn't know how she managed to keep on smiling. It seemed more than obvious what the woman was implying, that she and Malfoy—Narcissa squashed her eyes shut, trying to blot the image out of her mind. "Yes...er...good luck with that." She said hollowly. "I really ought to get back to my date."

"Oh. Right." The girl frowned and made a waving motion with her arm. Narcissa thought she saw the flash of gemstones on her left hand. "You came with Rookwood didn't you?"

"You know him?"

"From school. He's better looking than I remembered."

Narcissa's spine stiffened. It was bad enough that the girl had captivated Malfoy- now she seemed to be implying a move on Rookwood!

"Do you like him?" Kitty asked.

"Augustus?"

"Of course." Miss Slater's lips spread into a warm smile that, nevertheless, made Narcissa feel foolish.

"I thought I was in love with him for the past six years." She answered truthfully.

"Six years?" Kitty arched a brow. "It seems like you would _know_ if you were in love with someone by then."

"It seems that way, doesn't it?" Narcissa said mostly to herself.

"You ought to come out with us later."

"What?" Narcissa gasped, honestly confused. Was Kitty trying to rub her possession of Lucius in the other girls face? Was she legitimately trying to be friendly? It sounded like the latter, but Narcissa still wasn't sure.

"We're going to Enchantment later." She said, the name of the posh club tripping easily off her lip. "We're on the list for the club room. Why don't you 't." Narcissa stammered. In the first place, she couldn't imagine Augustus there. In the second, spending the night watching Lucius hang off another woman was _not _her idea of fun. "Mr. Rookwood has to go back to his office in the morning. He can't stay out late."

Kitty frowned. "Too bad." She sighed. "Lucius is a wonderful dancer." 

In spite of feeling intimidated, Narcissa narrowed her eyes and answered, "I _know_ that!" She'd been dancing with him herself only the night before.

"Do you?" Kitty was grinning again. "Well then ditch Rookwood and come with us. No one wants to be a third wheel!"

"I beg your pardon?" Narcissa felt again as if she had somewhere lost the thread of the conversation.

"Malfoy." Miss Slater supplied. "My fiance is supposed to meet us there. I'd feel awful just having him sit around by himself."

"Your...fiancé?" Narcissa swallowed hard, pleased and yet disconcerted by this unexpected turn of events.

"He's flooing in as soon as he finished some meetings. You'd love Michael!" She grasped the blonde girl's hand as if they were old friends. "Come!"

It was almost painfully appealing. If Narcissa had any excuse, any pretence to give herself other than her fatal attraction to Malfoy, she would have seized it, but there was none. "I'd love to..." Narcissa gasped. "...but I really can't."

Kitty sighed heavily. "Some other time then."

Narcissa nodded politely, and then swept back out of the room to her table. Their food had come while she was gone, but Augustus hadn't started eating. "I thought maybe you'd run away." He said with the faintest twinge of nervousness. She was pleased to discover that she found this rather endearing.

"I ran into a..." What would she consider Miss Slater? "Schoolmate of Lucius's." She finished at last. "We were talking."

"Lucius Malfoy?" Rookwood frowned and set down his knife and fork, which he was using now that Narcissa had finally returned.

"Of course. You saw him the other day at my house."

"Is he still staying there?"

She thought of what Rodolphus had said and frowned. "I'm not sure."

"I hope he's not."

"Why?" Narcissa was baffled with this pronouncement."

"I don't like to think of you left alone with...someone like Malfoy."

"Someone like Malfoy? What do you mean?" 

Augustus reached across the table and took her hands, his face the very picture of concern. "Oh my dear girl, don't you know?"

Narcissa narrowed her eyes and listened as Rookwood set forth a litany of charges against the Malfoy heir, everything from involvement in the darkest arts (which Narcissa did not count as a failing), to the seduction and debauchment of young girls (not beyond the realm of possibility, though she couldn't believe the girls in question, should the exist, were unwilling victims). "Not at all the sort of scoundrel that a woman like you ought to be seen around."

"And what sort of man should I be seen around?" Narcissa asked tightly. She could feel the frown hovering behind her lips, but she struggled to contain it.

"Someone more suited to your temperament and position in society."

"I hardly think the Malfoys beneath the notice of the Blacks." It was on the tip of her tongue to add something tart about the same not being necessarily true of Rookwoods, but she managed to contain herself, conscious that any defence that she offered on Lucius's behalf could expose her secret to light.

"No. I suppose he's quite the friend of your brother-in-law-to-be." Augustus snarled.

"How do you know about that?" It was the second time that evening that Rookwood seemed to have been able to read her mind.

He appeared momentarily flustered, but quickly recovered, "Your father."

Narcissa chewed her lip. It was possible. She suspected that Rodolphus had spoken to Mr. Black before the latter's departure to places abroad regarding his intentions toward the Middle Black, but she had never known her father to discuss his personal life with inferiors before.

"What's your interest in Malfoy?" She said carefully.

"In Malfoy?" Once again he looked momentarily wary. He tried to hide the look as he took another sip of wine. "It's my interest in you, of course dearest." She flinched at the term of endearment.

"And what, precisely, is that?"

"What?"

"You never gave me the time of day before last week." She said, once again parroting Malfoy's turn of phrase. "I might have been in peril from any number of men before."

"Narcissa." Rookwood laughed lightly. "I think we know that wasn't the case."

"And why was that?" She felt strangely empowered as she waited for him to say it: that he'd never noticed her until her appearance had changed, but what he said took her completely by surprise.

"It took Malfoy's little lessons to bring you to the notice of men, didn't it?" 

The taunt stung, but more jarring was the blasé way in which her spoke of her tutelage. "How do you know about that?" She hissed- and _don't _say that you heard it from my father!"

"Know about what?" Rookwood feigned innocence.

"The lessons!"

"Lessons?" She was unconvinced by his attempt to appear surprised, "I was merely employing a figure of speech. Good Godric Narcissa, do you mean to tell me that you actually _got instruction_ in how to act around men. How utterly-" He reached forward to stroke her cheek, but she evaded the touch.

Narcissa stood abruptly. "I want you to take me home!" She announced, loudly enough that some of the other diners near their table turned their heads.

"Don't be ridiculous." Rookwood pointedly stabbed a roast potato and popped it in his mouth. "You haven't eaten a bite."

"I'm not hungry." Narcissa countered, "And I want you to take me now."

"Listen, _girl..._" Rookwood's tone was warning, "After the money that I paid-"

"I don't care what you paid!" She was past the point of caring that she was making a spectacle of herself. Several nearby tables had hushed now to overhear the row. "I'm leaving now."

"I'm not taking you."

"Fine." Narcissa flung her napkin into the chair and spun around. She could feel tears on the rims of her eyes. She felt hurt and very confused. She still didn't have an answer to her question. How _did_ Augustus know about the lessons? Was he really telling the truth? Was it just a lucky guess?

_No_. Her mind insisted. There was too much that didn't make sense. Her thoughts were whirling as she stalked out of the restaurant and back to the lobby to hail purchase floopowder or see about hiring a portkey home. Behind her, she heard Rookwood calling for the check and then demanding once more that she return. He'd be on her heels soon. She walked faster.

By the time she swept back into the entry tears were glittering on her cheek. "Is anything the matter, Madame?" The Maitre d' looked up from his reservation book and gave her a worried glance.

"No. I'm just...not feeling well, I'd..." She started to ask him where she could obtain transport home, but realized in her haste that she'd forgotten her handbag. She didn't have two sickles to rub together, much less purchase a portkey back to Ravensden.

"Narcissa! Narcissa Black!"

Hearing Rookwood approach, she bolted for the door. "I'd just like to get some air." She blurted to the astonished maitre d', and then hurried into the night.

She hadn't collected her cloak either and it was utterly freezing outside. She crossed her arms around her shoulders and started to walk aimlessly into the night. Unfortunately, in unfamiliar heeled shoes, she was slower than Rookwood. He caught up with her on the first street corner.

"Stop this!" He hissed, grabbing her shoulder and forcing her against the wall.

"Stop what?"

"Behaving like a little girl."

"I'll act however I please." She hissed back and tried to leave but he held her firmly in place, shaking her once so that her head knocked lightly against the bricks behind her.

"No, Narcissa. You will not. No woman that I date is going to make a public spectacle of herself in this manner!"

"Woman that you date?" Narcissa would have laughed if not for the sensation that she was trapped inside a private nightmare. Surely he was jesting! The look on his face, however, was resolutely serious. "I'm not going anywhere with you again. Thank you for dinner, Mr. Rookwood, it was...enlightening."

"What is it that you want?"

"I don't want anything."

He made a dismissive grunt. "You've been in love with me since you were twelve years old." He said in a condescending sneer. "Don't even pretend that you're going to walk away now because Malfoy's poured some honey in your ear."

"I'm not going to listen to this." She tried to slide down the wall, but was stopped when Augustus's hands slid under her jaw and he lifted her chin to his lips.

The kiss that he gave her was nothing like the chaste, gentlemanly kiss that he had offered at her house a few days before. It was hot and demanding and nearly overwhelming- so shocking that she forgot to give him the same treatment that she had offered to Remington Flint. When he finally pulled away, she was shaking.

"Don't try to pretend you didn't want that."

"I don't!" She panted desperately. She didn't! Did she? She was confused. She had tried all night to recapture her lost adoration for Rookwood, but that objective was rapidly fading. It might be true that Augustus was the best that she could hope for- so perhaps she'd be better off alone!

She bucked wildly and finally managed to wriggle free. Rookwood let her leave, but his voice carried after her. "Did Malfoy ever kiss you like that?" She blanched as she remembered the lessons. Lucius had kissed her with the same intensity, it was true- but otherwise nothing was the same. Malfoy's lips on her own had been heaven: warm and light and drugging, while Augustus merely made her feel slimy and hollow.

"That isn't very fair. I knew I shouldn't have put it past Malfoy to cheat."

"Cheat?" She hated that she had let him under her skin, but she found her curiosity where Malfoy was concerned to be irresistible.

"On our little wager. It would appear that Lucius has won."

"Wager?" She said breathlessly.

"Yes." The arrogant smile was back on Rookwood's face as he stepped toward her again. "He said that he could turn you against me. He said that he could make you choose him."

"Choose him?" Narcissa felt weak at the knees.

"The other morning, when I brought your flowers. We were quarreling. He said that he could tempt you away...He asked me to make a bet."

"A bet?"

"_May the best man win."_

Even as he spoke the words, Narcissa recalled overhearing them as she drifted out into the hall. She hadn't known what the men were discussing. Had it really been about her?"

"Why would he do that?" She rasped.

"Cruel amusement, I would guess." Augustus was all the way beside her now. He'd brought her cloak and handbag from the restaurant and he gave them back. "He found your diary at your house and thought he could have a spot of fun."

"My diary!" Narcissa swayed as realization settled into sense. No wonder Lucius had arranged the dinner and let her push him so far the evening before- she was nothing but a game.

"Yes. He was bragging about it. I hope there wasn't anything in there that you wouldn't want him to see." Rookwood's voice was all concern, though Narcissa didn't believe it. He had been in on the game too, hadn't he?

No man would ever really want her for herself. She had been a fool to believe anything else. "Goodbye, Mr. Rookwood." Narcissa said firmly. "I'll send father's parchment by post."

Not giving a damn about the prohibitions against underage wizarding, she rummaged in her handbag for her wand. She didn't really care if she got splinched, she thought as she lifted her wand to Apparate. She simply wanted to be home. She wanted the nightmare to be over. She wanted things to be back like they always had been before.

Happily, Narcissa arrived home in one piece. She appeared on the front lawns of the Black's manor and it was only a short walk to the front door.

She dismissed the elf who let her in and started stalking up the stairs, her mind still whirring with activity. Some of the pain of Rookwood's explanation had faded, but was replaced with a searing anger.

_How dare Lucius use her like that!_ She had admitted herself that she was not the calibre of woman that Malfoy would ever desire, but neither was she fit to be trifled with like a Muggle or an elf! She was a Black- and Malfoy would do well to remember that. She could _make_ him fall in love with her if she wanted- consequences be damned!

Narcissa's mind cast to the potion again, and she felt her fury waiver. In spite of his motivations, he had succeeded in attracting her to a point that, even in her rage, she found it hard to wish him completely out of her life. She had enjoyed the lessons immensely- particularly those on kissing...which didn't mean she was above enjoying a spot of revenge. Surely she could simply frighten him? Embarrass him? Expose him and turn his game back upon itself? Malfoy didn't know that he had been found out and would probably want to continue. _Well, _Narcissa thought, smugly, he was about to learn a thing or two of his own!

**NOTE: Rookwood's "Any savage can dance" quote is, of course, from Pride & Prejudice. In spite of his objections to reading Browning (Andromeda's "Muggle Poetry"), one must assume that Jane Austen either earns a special exception, or was secretly a witch.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Lucius arched a brow as Kitty returned to the table and pretended to nurse his drink as his companion settled back into her chair. Maddeningly, she started eating her appetizer, rather than meeting his gaze.

"Well?!" He commanded after a few minutes of contented chewing had pushed him to the edge.

"Well?" Kitty said in a composed voice.

"What did you talk about?"

"With Narcissa you mean?" The woman's bottom lip was curled into an elvish grin.

"Of _course_ Narcissa." Lucius growled. "Who else would I mean?"

"She was charming."

"I know that she's charming." He spat, "What the devil did she say?"

"She said that every time she and Rookwood have sex she imagines it's you."

Lucius choked on his drink, spraying the bourbon back into his glass. Kitty thumped him on the back soundly and offered him a serviette before he looked up and noticed that she was laughing. "That's not funny." He snarled.

"On the contrary." She trilled. "It was extremely amusing. I wish you could have seen your face." In deference to his persistent frown, she relented, "We really didn't have time to say much. I introduced myself and we chitchatted a bit. I invited her out with us but she said she couldn't go. I'm hardly surprised. Rookwood would never go for it. He always was an old fuddy-duddy." She sighed with disappointment but then gave Lucius a sly smile. "She did appear rather relieved to learn that I wasn't here as your date."

"Oh?" Lucius's eyebrow quirked in interest. "How can you tell?"

"Lucius!" Kitty sighed, giving him a significant look. "Women _know. _In any event, she doesn't seem to be having a very good time."

"What makes you say that?"

Kitty inclined her chin toward to the left, and Lucius followed her indication just in time to see Narcissa stalking out of the restaurant while Rookwood stumbled after. "I knew I should have gotten an O in divination." She purred.

Lucius's knuckles tightened on the table.

"Well?" Kitty said with an exasperated sigh.

Lucius merely looked puzzled.

"Aren't you going to go after her?"

"She wouldn't appreciate that." Lucius said quickly, even though his eyes were still glued to the curtain that Narcissa had disappeared behind. "I'm sure that she and Rookwood just…"

"Decided to walk out on their bill?" Kitty finished with an impish grin.

Lucius rolled her eyes. "I'm sure she'll be all right. Rookwood wouldn't do anything to her." He met his companion's sceptical gaze. "Would he?"

"You know them better than I." She shrugged.

Lucius squirmed in his seat. He couldn't forget the pompous look on Rookwood's face as he had pronounced their challenge- or the possessive way that he had kissed her a few days before.

"Do you know, Lucius." Kitty said, not so subtly slipping something off her wrist and putting it into her bag. "I think I've lost my bracelet! The diamond one that Michael gave me. Would you look for it for me? It might be in the lobby- or maybe the sidewalk outside?"

It was all the pretence he needed. In a flash he was on his feet and heading back toward the door.

By the time that Lucius reached the lobby, Narcissa and Augustus were already gone. He spun toward the maitre d'. "Excuse me." He drawled, "But did you just see a young lady and a gentleman…?"

"Outside." The other man replied. "They've just gone."

Lucius tipped his chin in acknowledgement, and then hurried out the door.

It took him a moment to find them. He initially went the wrong way but, in desperation, he cast a finding charm and followed his wand tip around the bend.

He wished that he hadn't.

With the exception of Rookwood's previous presumption, he'd never had the displeasure of watching Narcissa be kissed by another man. He had not been eager to repeat the experience. Nevertheless, as he rounded the corner, it was the sight that greeted him first. Narcissa was pressed against the wall, her hands clawing feebly at Rookwood's back as he lavished her with an extremely energetic kiss.

He thought, for just a moment, that Narcissa was being forced, but then he remembered that couldn't possibly be the case. She was hopelessly infatuated with Rookwood, even if he was an arrogant arsehole, and besides, he remembered too well what had become of Remington Flint. If Narcissa so desired she could send Rookwood quickly on his way. It appeared that all she desired was more time in his arms- and perhaps a bit of privacy. It was just as well. Lucius couldn't bear to stay and watch.

Lucius drifted away, careless of where his footsteps led. He didn't return to Alchemy. No doubt Kitty's fiancé would be along in a moment, and he was in no frame of mind to spend the evening with a happy couple. He wanted to drink. He wanted to brood, and so he ended up at the Poisoned Apple, a dive bar on Knockturn Alley.

Sometimes Malfoy hated his tolerance for liquor. The bar didn't close until three AM. In spite of a steady intake of neat scotch, it failed to make the buxom blonde who cozied up to him the moment he arrived look anything like Narcissa at all. He finally wandered back to the flat, and then laid in bed for three more hours. Greeting the dawn, he was still musing over what to do.

He was painfully aware that he was brooding- and that was a very unMalfoy thing to do. Malfoy's did not pout or sulk when they didn't get what they wanted. This was partly because that circumstance almost never occurred, but it was also a function of another fact: they were fighters, not quitters. Augustus hadn't married her yet- Lucius would simply have to work harder to see that he won!

It occurred to Lucius that he had, perhaps, been to subtle in demonstration of his regard. Convinced that Narcissa preferred Rookwood, uncertain of his own feelings and worried that she lacked experience around men, he hadn't plied his usual, highly successful technique. Now that he knew that he wanted her- and would stop of nothing to win her- it was time that he stepped up the charm.

Feeling better now that he had a plan, Lucius summoned an elf. With his wand, he conjured a list of things he wanted bought- after all, Christmas was only another week away- and then he bathed and dressed.

"Is Master staying here, sir?" the tiny, bathtowel-bedecked houseelf inquired.

Lucius shook his head. "I'm returning to Ravenseden for Christmas." He answered forcefully- there was no sense squandering his chief advantage: proximity to Miss Black. "Please have the things on the list sent over."

"Yes sir." The creature squeaked.

Lucius waited until it had scurried off before he took out his wand and apparated back to Narcissa's house.

He had to knock three times on the door before it was answered by an elf. The little creature looked decidedly worse for wear. He thought he heard human footsteps on the stairs, but by the time he looked up, there was no one to be seen. The front hall of Ravensden was deserted. This was unsurprising, but the house had an air of sudden stillness that Lucius found unsettling.

"Where is the family?" He asked tersely.

"Miss Black and Mister Lestrange is not returning last night, sir." The elf answered in a whisper, then took the liberty of ramming its head into Lucius's cane as punishment for tattling on Bellatrix.

"And Miss Narcissa?" He pressed.

The elf seemed to hesitate. "Weezy thinks Mistress Narcissa is…she is still sleeping, sir." It said in a feeble voice, and then whacked its head into the ebony stick again.

He'd expected her up hours ago, or at least for Bellatrix and Rodolphus to be at home. He assumed that no one had received the note he had owled over only moments before his arrival, and that was why it had taken so long for him to be admitted into the home.

Lucius didn't want to think about why Narcissa needed to sleep so late. He should be exhausted himself, but found that adrenaline was keeping him awake. "I think I'll just go upstairs to my room."

He waited to see if the elf would challenge him. Apparently, however, the creature was unaware that Malfoy had briefly quitted being their guest, and let him ascend the stairs.

Lucius's chamber was exactly as he'd left it, with the exception that the door between his and Narcissa's had been left ajar. The tactful, gentlemanly thing to do, of course, would have been to simply close it, and this is what he set out to do, but he hesitated with his hand on the door. He had decided to be bold, after all, hadn't he?

Stepping lightly, Lucius went into the room. Narcissa was lying on the bed, eyes closed, looking so perfect that he was momentarily struck by the impossible thought that she had arranged it.

She was lying on her side, turned toward Lucius's room with her hands tucked up by her face. She was wearing a periwinkle nightgown with a low-v in the front. The attire, coupled with her position, gave her cleavage that was highly distracting. After permitting himself a lingering stare, Lucius moved his attention to her face. Her hair, still gloriously golden and curled, was held back from her forehead by a blue satin ribbon. In spite of having weathered the night, it was still perfectly styled, lying flat and in perfect array. Her makeup charms had also lasted extremely well- unless her cheeks and lips were naturally so rosy and bright.

She really looked so much like a fairy tale princess that his next move took no thought at all. He walked toward the bed, leaned forward, and then pushed her into her back. She was starting stir when his lips descended onto hers: firm and searching, but brief. When he pulled away her blue eyes were fluttering and her cheeks were flushed. "Good morning, sleeping beauty." He drawled. "Isn't it about time you were awake?"

She blinked at him a few times, the innocence in her eyes almost tempting him to steal another kiss- a temptation that grew even stronger when her mouth curled into a brilliant smile. "Good morning, Lucius." She said, sounding completely awake. "I thought you weren't coming back."

He winced at this reminder, but made a nonchalant gesture to cover the lapse, "My plans have changed." He said lightly. "I couldn't miss our lesson, could I- and I have to hear all about your date."

Actually, the less he heard about Rookwood, the better, but he wanted to be polite. Besides, if she _did_ feel the need to enlighten him on every aspect of the evening before, he could pick apart his rival's technique.

"Oooh! Are we having lessons?" Naricssa gave a completely atypical squeal.

"Yes." Lucius said firmly. "Provided you find something to wear."

Narcissa jerked the blanket up to her chin, a deep flush darkening her cheeks and Lucius smiled at her, though he respectfully turned away. "You've missed half the day." He teased.

"Well. I did get home terribly late last night."

"That's no excuse." Lucius hoped that the tension in his voice wasn't obvious as he quickly stood to leave the room. "I'll meet you downstairs shall I?"

Narcissa nodded her head.

Lucius hurried down the front steps and into the ballroom, cursing the elves from his London flat and the things they were meant to send him which hadn't yet arrived. He wanted things to be perfect- which wasn't meant to suggest that he had an actual plan. He hadn't the faintest idea of what he intended to teach Narcissa today, apart from the fact that it was meant to be perfect, and to encourage her to fall as hopelessly in love with him as he was beginning to fear that he was with her. That must be the case. There was no other way to account for how pathetically sentimental and soft that he was feeling of late- not that he particularly minded.

It wasn't long before there was a flurry of footsteps on the stairs. Without meaning to, he held his breath as the door was flung open. Then she stepped inside.

Narcissa was wearing a dress almost the perfect colour of her eyes a shifting, shining blue that reminded him of Caribbean seas. She bustled into the room in a burst of fierce, unexpected energy that took him by surprise. Her features were less composed than they had been when she was sleeping. She looked almost…angry? But as soon as she noticed him watching, her lips twisted into a smile.

"Well, here I am." She said lightly and spun around so that her skirts lifted off of the ground. "Presentable?"

"Quite." Lucius answered. He gestured toward a seat.

Narcissa settled into it and stared up at him expectantly, reminding Lucius of nothing so much as a little schoolgirl waiting to put on the Sorting hat.

"Er…did you have anything in particular you were hoping to learn today?" Lucius asked, more out of habit than any expectation that she did- which is why he lifted an eyebrow when she merrily answered. "Yes."

"Oh?"

"I thought we might revise."

"Er?"

"On my date, with Mr. Rookwood, I realized there must have been some omissions in my earlier lessons." Her blue eyes were still guileless, but she seemed nervous now. She was squirming in her chair.

At the mention of the date with Rookwood, Lucius's features flushed, but he forced himself to growl. "Oh? And what was that?"

"I think there's rather more to kissing than you let on."

It took a moment for her words to sink in, but then Lucius felt his face darken automatically. "Well, if you think there's something lacking in my technique I'm sure Mr Rookwood would be only to happy to instruct you in future." He snapped and turned to go, but Narcissa caught his shoulder, her full lips curled into a playful smile.

"I wasn't speaking of deficiencies Mr. Malfoy, but omissions." The hand that had been on his shoulder curled around his back as she stepped in front of him and lifted her chin. It was really impossible to be cross with her when she was melting into his arms. Lucius was grateful that all thoughts of Rookwood seemed to vanish when she was curled against his chest. "You didn't tell me what to do with my hands." She chided gently, her own delicate fingers roaming aimlessly over her back. "You didn't tell me what to do with my tongue."

"Well, let's rectify that, shall we?" Lucius whispered against her skin just before his lips met hers.

Narcissa sighed as his mouth covered her, the raised ridges of his skin passing over hers with a shiver of friction that she felt all the way to her toes. No, kissing Rookwood had been nothing like this, she though, relishing the heady, lighter-than-air feeling before she reminded herself of her mission and firmly yanked her feed back onto the ground.

None of this was real.

Lucius wasn't kissing her because he wanted her, and that certainly wasn't why she was kissing him. Oh, she _wanted_ to kiss him well enough- but not as badly as she wanted revenge…did she?

She felt hopelessly muddled. It was oh-so-easy to despise him when she was alone in her bed, crying herself to sleep thinking of how he had wronged her. She had trusted Lucius, believed in Lucius, let Lucius trick her into believing in herself, only to find out that it was all a game! Yes, he was loathsome. Except, when his arms were wrapped around her waist, and his tongue was slipping restlessly against her own, it was so much harder to remember that she didn't want to be played with. Even that was better than being ignored!

Narcissa thought that this must be what drowning felt like. The awareness that she was slipping under made her want to kick and scream, but as soon as she surrendered, as soon as she admitted that giving Lucius everything he wanted was as inevitable as night following day, she felt at peace. If she didn't think about it, she might even feel happy.

With determination, she stilled her mind long enough to savour the remainder of the kiss. Malfoy didn't rush things. She had somehow expected him to be the type who would press an obvious advantage. With her, at least, this was not the case. He kept an even, steady pressure against her mouth and the strokes of his fingertips down her back were light and reverent.

"Narcissa?"

Bellatrix's voice burst into the room a moment before the woman herself. Lucius and Narcissa had barely enough time to jump apart and smooth their clothes before she rushed in, trailing Lestrange behind her.

She didn't speak, but the expression of triumph on her face was so strong that she could have been shouting.

"There you are!" She said, throwing her arms forward toward her sister's face. She waved her hand in an unnecessary circle. "We've been looking all over."

Narcissa's vision seized on an unexpected flash. She captured her sister's hand, and then let her lower lip drop in awe at the exquisite pear-shaped diamond sitting on the third finger of her hand. "Bellatrix!" She gasped, flinging her arms around her sister as the men looked on uncomfortably.

"This is a surprise." Lucius drawled sarcastically.

Rodolphus shuffled his feet. "I didn't want to wait." He muttered under his breath.

Ignoring him, Narcissa squeezed her sister's shoulders and then dragged her to a pair of chairs. "Congratulations!" She said, truly happy for her sister. It was joyous news for the entire family. Between her cousin Sirius and her sister Andromeda, the Blacks had been short of things to celebrate. Narcissa was pleased that her sister had the sense to choose someone right-thinking, like Lestrange. "I wondered why you didn't come home."

"We went to see father, of course." Bella said as if this was obvious.

"To South America?" Narcissa was astonished.

"Yes, of course. Rodolphus had to ask his permission." She smiled smugly and, if possible, her fiancé went even pinker. "He said yes, of course."

"Of course!" Narcissa echoed, never thinking for a second that Orion would be anything but overjoyed.

"He said that we can announce it at the Rhys-Boomslang ball!"

"The Rhys-Boomslang ball?" Narcissa frowned, but that's this weekend! Father won't be home yet."

"Of course he will, silly." Bellatrix said with a sigh, "He took the international floo with us. He's at the office now, but…"

"He's at the office?" Narcissa paled, horrified by the thought of Rookwood alone with her father. If he told how she had behaved, her father would kill her! Augustus was hardly the prime catch she had pretended him to be as a lovesick girl- in hindsight she thought that a woman would do better to throw him back!- but her father had always thought he would do well enough for Narcissa. He'd be furious if he thought she had snubbed a potential pureblood mate, no matter what his status. "You didn't tell father that I was going with Rookwood did you?" She asked slowly. In her nervousness she reached for a strand of her flaxen hair and began twirling it around her index finger.

"No." Bellatrix answered abruptly, as though she would very much like to get back to admiring her ring. Narcissa's features relaxed, but her relief was short lived, "Rookwood told him himself. Father said he 'asked his permission to court you'. You know how Rookwood is." She sighed and rolled her eyes, unknowingly displaying Narcissa's own revised opinion of what a pompous boor he was.

"I know." Narcissa said, frowning.

"Well, it was bound to come out eventually." Lucius's voice seemed rather tight.

Narcissa didn't have the presence of mind to notice, or to revel in this little sign of triumph. She was still too concerned- and confused. "But father only got back this morning? When did Rookwood speak to him?"

"At breakfast." Bellatrix said. "He met us at the furnace." She scrunched her nose, demonstrating her opinion of international floo travel and the large, industrial boilers it required. "He jabbered on about you all morning Cissa- your little self improvement plan…" Her tone was notably mocking, "…must be working."

_Too well, it would seem_. Narcissa felt sick with worry. What was Rookwood thinking? Hadn't she made it clear that she didn't want to go out with him again? Then again, if she confessed- if Lucius discovered that she no longer had Rookwood in her sights, their lessons would come to an end. She wasn't ready for that to happen either.

"Anyhow, I'm sure that father will tell you all about it himself."

"Tell her what?"

Narcissa and her sister both spun around in unison at the sound of Orion Black's voice.

"Oh, there you are, papa." Bella said, holding her arms out to him in what might have been a gesture of welcome, but which was probably just another excuse to show off her ring.

He was completely blanking her, however. His gaze was locked on her little sister.

"_Narcissa?_" He said. His voice was obviously shocked. She couldn't help but feel a little pang. Her daddy, at least, was always meant to have thought she was beautiful. Her father seemed to remember this, because the expression on his face softened to hide his surprise. "That's a lovely dress, darling…and…you've changed your hair?"

There was an unspoken question in his voice: _Why_? But he had the grace not to ask it, and Narcissa was glad. Momentarily forgetting about her audience, she swept across the room and rushed into her father's arms.

Narcissa had always thought, no matter what happened, as long as she had her father, she would be okay. He was her absolute ideal of perfection. He had the classic Black looks. In his early fifties, his hair was already grey, but his face was still ruggedly handsome and his body was still full of power. Even more than his physical appearance, Narcissa loved the image he projected: silent, unshakable strength. Although his unbending will could be a terrible thing at times, his daughter valued it just the same. She knew that he loved her, and would stand between her and anything that wanted to harm her…almost.

Narcissa bit her lip to cover a frown as a worrying little thought fluttered into his mind. He had loved Andromeda too- and now it was as if she didn't exist. He never even spoke her name anymore although Narcissa had caught him looking at pictures. Anytime someone else mentioned her, his eyes were distant and sad. She supposed that Black pride was the one thing more important to him than family love. It was regrettable, but still something she understood. Hadn't she been raised the same way? Hadn't she cut Andromeda out of her own life as well? Orion Black would support her through anything but a family scandal. He would _not_ go through that again- none of them would.

"Why do you look so sad, poppet?" He said, hugging her close and whispering to her as if she was a little girl, "I felt certain that I'd find a smile on your face."

"Yes." Narcissa backed away and intentionally forced her lips to curve. "I'm so pleased for Bella."

"I meant about your own news." He said, arching a brow, "I understand you've brought Mr. Rookwood around at last- heaven help me if I'm meant to pay for _two_ weddings this year!"

Narcissa laughed nervously. She was grateful for the distraction when her father looked past her toward Lucius. "Young Mr. Malfoy." He said formally and extended his hand for a shake, "What brings you to Ravensden today?"

Narcissa's heart clenched in panic when she thought of Lucius's luggage in the room beside her own. Bellatrix might be forgiven for any indiscretion with Rodolphus. Their sins were washed away now that they were engaged- but her father would lock her in the dungeons for a week if he knew what Narcissa had done. She parted her lips, mind racing for an explanation, but Lucius managed to be the one who spoke first.

"I came to congratulate Rodolphus." He lied easily, "He's certainly landed quite a prize."

"He has, hasn't he?" For a second, it seemed that Lucius's distraction would work, but Orion's legal training had made him acutely aware of suspicious omissions and flawed logic. "But how did you know? Rodolphus has been in South America with me."

"It's been in the works." Lucius replied with a shrug. "Not meaning to imply that Rodolphus lacks subtlety," He dipped his chin toward his friend, "But it seemed unlikely that he'd travel so far, at Christmas, with Bellatrix to meet her father if he wasn't ready to pop the question at last."

Mr. Black finally seemed satisfied. He smiled warmly at the younger man. "Very clever of you, Mr. Malfoy." He considered for a moment, "There isn't any chance that we could wrestle you away from your father, is there? The Wizengamut could use more young minds that actually bother to think things through."

"Thank you, sir." Lucius answered politely, "But I enjoy the world of business."

Orion shrugged dismissively, "Ah, well- it takes all kinds. For my part, I'm glad there are agents to handle that sort of thing." He nodded his head at Lucius again in a gesture that was meant to end the conversation. Then, sliding his arms around the waists of his daughters, one on either side, he ushered them out of the room.


	7. Chapter 7

**ANOTHER WARNING: This fic is R for a reason. We venture into the R-ish-ness again in this chapter. I tried not to make it /too/ bad, but bare-breasted-ness follows, so please be advised. There are MUCH better things to lose your innocence for than my fics.**

**Chapter 7**

Lucius hadn't been asked to stay, and he thought it was unwise in light of Mr. Black's unexpected arrival. He didn't bother to ask one of the house elves to retrieve his things. He'd have to trust Narcissa to take care of that. Instead, he Apparated immediately home to contemplate what he should be doing next.

Mr. Black's arrival was a definite problem. Lucius was an old family friend, but that didn't put him above suspicion. His access to Narcissa was going to be extremely curtailed. Rookwood, on the other hand, would have the perfect excuse to call on her every day if he so chose. Lucius's tactics would have to change.

The usual strategy wouldn't work. Narcissa might look like the other girls he dated. _No,_ he mentally corrected, _none of them were quite so radiantly beautiful. _All the artifice involved to effect Miss Black's transformation, worked to enhance, rather than hide, what was underneath. It was polish, rather than a mask.

Flowers and expensive presents were the wrong tactic to take. If Narcissa cared about things, she would have surrounded herself with them long before. No, she required something of more substance.

Lucius was still mulling the question when he Apparated back to the Manor in Wiltshire. He had hoped to simply shuffle off to his room to mope and consider, but it was not meant to be.

"Lucius!"

He winced as his mother's voice chimed through the hall, followed by the clatter of her heels clattering across the front hall. He didn't know how she had learned of his arrival. It was either a sixth sense or, more likely, she had been informed by one of the elves. He shot one of them, a snivelling little creature in a tea towel, a dangerous look before he fixed his expression and turned to greet his mother.

"Darling! You're home!" She gushed, sweeping across the hall and throwing her arms around his neck. He patiently accepted the embrace, "I thought you were going to be at the Blacks?"

"My plans changed." He said blankly, hoping that she would take a hint and return to…whatever it was that his mother did all day.

"Oh, dear." Evelyn sighed, "You look rather grim. You haven't quarrelled with Narcissa, have you?"

"Narcissa?" His eyes widened, "How do you…?" He started, but let his voice trail off before he revealed too much. Although, judging from the smile that had erupted on his mother's face, it was too late. She'd already anticipated what he'd been about to say.

"Mother's intuition." She said with a shrug. Much to his dismay, she had hooked her arm through his and was leading him toward the conservatory. "You have been spending an awful lot of time over there dearest…" It had to be more than that. He gave her a shrewd look, and was somewhat gratified when she folded under pressure, "And I may have had a chat with Miss Slater."

"Ah." _Kitty_. He mentally cursed his friend, but was helpless to do more than smile tightly at this point. "In any event, I haven't quarrelled with anyone. Mr. Black came home and I thought he'd like some time alone with his family."

"Or rather, that you'd like to be as far away as possible when he learnt that you'd been staying there unchaperoned."

"Nothing happened!" Lucius retorted hotly.

His temper was stoked even hotter by his mother's dismissive: "How disappointing. How terribly unlike your father you are."

"Mother!" His voice tightened. _She_ was supposed to be the one who was scandalized. "If you're finished traumatizing me, I'll go to my room."

"But you only just got here!"

"I have…some…correspondence to take care of." He spoke without thinking. He felt a pang as his mother's face fell. "I'll come back downstairs later."

"You're staying the night?" Evelyn's smile rebounded.

"Yes." Lucius nodded, and then hurried away before she was able to corner him again.

Alone in his room, he began to pace, still considering the problem at hand. He thought that Narcissa would like flowers, but that was overdone. What else did she enjoy? He knew she liked potions, and books…

His gaze caught on the neat stack of stationary on his desk. He had told his mother that he was going to write some letters. _Well, why not? _Orion Black could hardly have any objection to his sending Narcissa a note, and he would have her complete attention while she read. Better still, he could hear in her own words what his rival was up to…if she bothered to reply.

Lucius frowned as a strange sensation shivered down his spine. Was he actually nervous? He had almost forgotten how that felt.

Composing himself, he sat down at the desk and selected a piece of parchment and a quill. He tapped the pale green feather against his mouth for a moment as he decided what to say, and ultimately began: 

_Dear Narcissa:_

_Permit me to congratulate you again on your sister's engagement. I know that this news was anticipated, but it is no doubt still a joy to find things finally settled. I am sure that you are pleased that your father is home as well. I hope you will excuse my abrupt departure. I was not certain whether Mr. Black was aware that I had been to visit Rodolphus, and I did not wish to cause disharmony should my presence displease him._

He reread the letter. It was acceptable, but a bit stiff. It didn't seem to capture any of the pleasant ease that had developed between them over the preceding weeks. He kept what he had written, but continued:

_I was disappointed, however, that I won't be seeing you. I had grown to rather enjoy our little lessons, and I dare to hope that you did as well. _

_Will you miss me, Cissa?  
  
_

He scratched the last line out, and then muttered a little charm that made it melt into the page. It was too much, too soon. He needed to make things playful, but not give too much of his feelings away.

_I wonder how you are managing without me? There were, I believe, some finer points to kissing that we neglected, but I fear that I shall not see you again before the ball. Are you agreeable to continuing our lessons by correspondence?_

_I shall give you homework- one roll of parchment on the following topic:_

_What I would do if I had three wishes._

_I look forward to your reply._

_Love,_

He frowned at the word, crossed it through and replaced it with:

_Regards,_

_Lucius_

He read over the letter a few more times. Satisfied, he tied it to the foot of his owl and set it off into the sky, wondering when he could expect a reply.

He did not have to wait long. It was just after lunch when the owl returned. A new piece of parchment was tied to its leg, this time with a pink silk ribbon. He smiled when he saw the crest on the seal, a dark red "B". He carried it to his desk and opened it. A small vial fell onto the rug, which he examined curiously, but then set aside as he read:

_Dear Lucius (Professor Malfoy?):_

_Thank you for your letter. I will pass along your congratulations to my sister and her fiancé, though I am sure that you will do so as well at the ball on Friday night. _

_I was very sorry to see you leave, but it was probably a correct decision. Papa can be rather old fashioned about things, especially since Andromeda went away, and it was better not to test him. He was upset enough about Rodolphus staying over but now that he and Bellatrix are engaged, I don't think father minds as much. He is still being sent home for tonight though._

_I was enjoying our lessons too, though I can't really say that I have improved. You have been a very patient teacher…but I suppose you have perfected your technique over the years. Speaking of which, how do you propose to continue? It would seem that our topic of study would not lend itself to distance learning? But, perhaps I am wrong. I have concocted the enclosed. Perhaps it is a start? You will have to let me know what you think. I look forward to hearing from you again._

_Yours,_

_Narcissa_

He frowned when he got to the end of the page. She had not answered his question, and there was no explanation for the tube that had been enclosed in the letter. He saw that there was a second page, however, and went on to read:

_P.S. I have neglected my homework! I do hope that you shan't deduct any points!_

She had continued with her answer. He was amused to see that she had, indeed, written her reply in essay form.

What I would do if I had three wishes 

_By Narcissa A. Black, Slytherin Kissing I Prof. Malfoy_

_Wizarding history is replete with genies, cursed objects and magical creatures who offer the unsuspecting witch or wizard three wishes. These wishes are not without limit, however. Typically, the whisher cannot request additional wishes, not can wishes be reserved or modified after they have been made. Even if the wishes are unlimited, one must be careful to anticipate negative consequences which may arise from overly broad or unspecific requests. For example, Ourang Tang, a wizard in 15th Czechoslovakia came into possession of a Monkey's Paw. This cursed object offered three wishes. Mr. Tang used the paw to wish for his dead son to come back to life. The wish was granted. However, the wizard had failed to specify the terms of this resurrection, and the boy was returned to life as a hideous zombie who had to be killed again with the other wishes. Similarly in 1745, Gladys Hopskotch, an Irish witch, once caught a leprechaun and used her wish to request that every day would be Sunday (Sunday being the morning when Muggles were busy with church, permitting her time to exercise her pet Dragon). It took the Wizarding Spells Reversals Brigade (predecessor to the modern Ministry Accidental Magic Reversal Squad) two months to catch another leprechaun and reverse the spell (primarily because no one could get the team members to report to work on Sunday). Considering the foregoing, it is obvious that wishes must be made only after careful circumspection. _

_My first wish would be for mother never to have died after all (NOTE: This is not a wish for her to come back from the dead, see above). I think that Andromeda wouldn't have gotten in trouble if that was the case, and I know that Papa would be happier. I know that, if mother were still alive, I might see things differently, but I wouldn't have been so lonely if she'd been around._

_My second wish would be to own a library with every wizarding book every written._

She had wedged into the margin: _Except for really dangerous ones that could hurt me. Those would all be safely locked away._

_I have tried to think how this wish might go awry, but to no avail. It seems to me that this is akin to a wish for wisdom, which is what fables are always recommending, so I must be safe with that one._

_My third wish would be to marry someone that I love, and to have him love me back._

Lucius frowned when he saw that this had been marked through, but understood as he continued reading.

_My third wish would be to remain happily married with no tragedies or health problems befalling us until we are both 150 years old and die, at the same instant, of natural causes, in our sleep, to a man that I am desperately in love with and who loves me back just as much._

_Perhaps it is selfish of me not to wish for world peace, or an end to Dragon Pox, but from my reading, it appears that small, focused wishes are more likely to be successful._

_THE END_

_P.P.S. What are your answers, Professor Malfoy?_

Lucius read and reread Narcissa's third wish, rather surprised that she hadn't asked for Rookwood by name. Did it mean that she was undecided? Lucius already knew that Augustus was her object, there was no reason to hide who she was speaking about. He felt a surge of hope.

He reached for another piece of parchment, but stopped when he remembered the vial. He picked it up and saw that it had writing in its label. "Kissing Potion" it read. "Spread on lips. Wait five seconds."

Malfoy eyes the tube warily, but ultimately decided to try it. Narcissa wouldn't have sent him anything intentionally harmful, and she was very skilled at potions. He opened the contained and spread a little of the clear gel inside onto his lips.

Lucius slowly counted to five. Nothing happened immediately. Then, the gel began to warm, and there was a subtle tingling on his lips. He smiled, thinking that this was the entire effect- but then everything changed.

He _knew _that it was Narcissa's lips. He couldn't describe _how_ he knew, but the sudden pressure on his mouth, the shallow ridges of skin brushing against his, unmistakably belonged to Miss Black. Lapping at the phantom lips, he tasted mint. When he inhaled the air: the jasmine and soap aroma was Narcissa's perfume as well. He sat very still as the pressure moved from the corner of his mouth to the centre. A velvety tongue flicked against his lips, and he parted them. It slid into his mouth, lapping gently, but the illusion was starting to fade. Like an apparition dissolving into mist, the touch became lighter and lighter until it was gone, and the tingling heat left his skin.

_That_ was certainly a useful little recipe, he thought. Wickedly, his mind raced forward to imagine what variations on this theme Miss Black might be able to concoct, but he was interrupted by a knock on his door.

"Lucius, dearest." Evelyn Malfoy's voice drifted through the door. "Are you coming down to dinner? Your father's home."

He frowned, wanting to be alone to finish his letter, but he realized that he had promised his mother to lodge an appearance hours ago.

"Very well." He sighed. Tucking the letter and the potion in his drawer, he followed his mother downstairs.

Marius Malfoy was waiting for them in the front hall when they alighted the steps. He gave his son a nod of greeting, and then took Evelyn's arm to lead her to the dining hall. Lucius lingered behind his parents, watching them together.

Lucius supposed that his mother and Mrs. Black had been friends because they were both so similarly situated in life. Impeccably pureblood, pretty, and rich, they both also had the good fortune of settling into marriages for love, merely than family alliance. It wasn't that Marius and Evelyn never quarrelled- quite the contrary! When Lucius was younger they had rows that ended with wands drawn- but they were very close. Even after 25 years of marriage, Marius kept his wife's hand tucked snugly into his elbow until he helped her to his seat. Lucius couldn't help imagining himself in his parents' place: guiding Narcissa through this same hallway, pulling out her chair…

"Well, you're certainly distracted today." Marius's voice interrupted Lucius's daydream. "Your mother told me that you were home, but I didn't know if it was true or not. What have you been doing up there all day?"

Lucius didn't dare to hesitate long. His father was staring at him sternly, and his mother seemed worried. If he didn't answer soon, they'd imagine him upstairs injecting himself with potion, so he finally admitted the half-truth, "I was catching up on some reading."

"Really?" Marius looked unconvinced.

"Yes. There was…er…something I started at the Black's house that I…got caught up in."

"I see."

"Orion is back from South America, dear." Evelyn explained to her husband, "Isn't that lovely."

Lucius had to smile that the "hrmph" sound that his father made. Marius liked to pretend that he and Orion disagreed on politics, but Lucius happened to know that their animosity stemmed from the fact that Orion Black had given his mother her very first kiss.

"He's come home for the Rhys-Boomslang ball." Evelyn chattered on, either oblivious to or uncaring of her husband's annoyance, "His daughter Bellatrix is going to announce her engagement to Rodolphus Lestrange."

"I thought they were already engaged." Marius said in a bored tone, meant to indicate he preferred another topic. Lucius smirked. Both of the Malfoy men were well aware of how unlikely it was for his mother to abandon any topic so promising as a wedding.

"I think that it is lovely. It's about time something happy happened to the Blacks. Poor Orion…poor, dear Lucretia- and then Andromeda. His daughter married a …" Here, she mouthed the word 'muggleborn', and then continued, "I heard she had that baby, but of course, he's never seen it. She isn't the only Black to go bad. I hear that the Black heir- Agrippina's son…What his name? Saurus? Silius? Oh…something to do with stars."

"Sirius." Lucius provided dryly.

"Yes! Sirius! Thank you dear. At any rate, Sirius has apparently left home to live with James Potter and his Mudblood girlfriend. What is that family coming to? Well, not Bellatrix, of course- or your Narcissa."

"_Your_ Narcissa?" Marius returned his gaze to his son. Lucius could practically feel pressure on his skin from the scrutiny.

"She's…er…not _my_ Narcissa." Lucius corrected. His mother rolled her eyes.

"Don't you think it would be lovely if we had them for dinner?" She chattered. Predictably, Marius groaned, but she was not dissuaded, "Oh, I think we must. It can be in honour of Bellatrix's engagement. Wouldn't that be lovely? I'll ask them for tomorrow night. They can't have plans- Orion wasn't even meant to be home."

Lucius didn't listen as his mother continued chattering on, speaking animatedly of her anticipated dinner party. Like his father, he was less than enamoured with the idea of having the whole Black family over. On the other hand, it meant that he would see Narcissa again. He lingered on this pleasant thought throughout the meal, then made his excuses to his parents.

"Are you sure that you won't stay downstairs for a while?" Evelyn asked, "We're going to decorate the Christmas tree."

"I want to finish my reading." He answered dismissively.

"But, you could bring your book downstairs."

"For Circe's sake, Evelyn. Leave the boy alone." Marius interrupted at last. Chastened, Evelyn let Lucius go.

Trying not to think about the disappointment on his mother's face, Lucius sprinted up the stairs. He had left his window open, but he was pleased to see that his owl had not taken this as an opportunity to go and hunt. He was still perched beside the bed.

Lucius raced to his desk and started writing:

_Dear Narcissa:_

_Thank you for your prompt reply. Unfortunately, I was forced to dock five points from Slytherin for your initial forgetfulness. Happily, you receive full marks for your essay and get your five points returned for the effort._

_I am glad to know that you have enjoyed your lessons. You are a very attentive pupil. I agree that it will be difficult to resume our course by post. However, perhaps we will not have to do so for long? My mother has announced her intention to have you all over for dinner. Perhaps we will have an opportunity to slip away and brush up on the basics. I would hate for your skills to grow rusty, when the ball is so close._

_Speaking of lessons, I was most impressed by your enclosure. Did you do the potion yourself? You are certainly full of surprises. Alas, I am unable to reciprocate. Accordingly, you will simply have to imagine my response, and accept yet another award of full marks._

_You certainly must have been busy today. Or, do you keep a stock of potion on hand?_

Lucius paused and stared jealously at the parchment. Did he really want to hear that she had concocted the batch for Rookwood and sent the sample to him? No. He didn't. Scowling, Lucius crumpled the parchment and started over, ending with "I would hate for your skills to grow rusty when the ball is so close" and leaving off the rest. If she wanted to know about the potion, she could ask.

_I don't know what sort of plans that you have with your father this week. As I mentioned, I believe my mother is going to ask you to visit tomorrow night. On Thursday, I am going to Hogsmeade to shop. I have ordered several presents that I need to pick up before the holidays. Do you think that you would be permitted to join me? _

If you aren't busy with Rookwood, Lucius thought but didn't write.

_Home is pleasant, but very boring. I love my mother dearly, and I know that I am very lucky to have her, but she is exhaustingly busy and wants me to join her every second of the day. I can't be alone in my room for more than half an hour without having a tea tray sent up, or being accused of "brooding". I miss how peaceful Ravensden was._

_My father has been at his office most of today, but I think that mother has convinced him to stay here for the rest of the week. No doubt this means I will be subjected to even more Christmas joy. I pity my father at times. Right now, mother has him downstairs stringing up fairies to hang on the tree. She's dreadfully squeamish about handling them herself, even when she puts the muting charm on them. _

_Well, I won't bore you with tales of family life. I suppose I ought to close. Your new homework: If you had a house all to yourself, what would it be like?_

His quill hung over the parchment for a long time as he debated his closing. Narcissa had said "Yours" which, frankly, could mean any number of things. He chewed his lip, finally settled on "Love". It could be explained away, after all. It wasn't "much love" or "all my love" or "Your Loving"…just a single word. With any luck, she wouldn't know how true it was.

Hurrying before he could change his mind, Lucius went to the window and sent the message on its way. He slept dreamlessly, and was awoken the next morning by tapping on the glass.

The letter that his owl delivered was depressingly brief:

_Dear Lucius:_

_I am very pleased that my efforts met with your approval, though disappointed that you chose not to reciprocate. It isn't very fair to tell secrets and receive none in return!_

_Father received your mother's invitation. He didn't want to go, but Bella sulked through breakfast until he agreed. No doubt she thinks that she and Rodolphus will be able to slink away while father is distracted by your parents- and of course, she is delighted with the prospect of someone else to admire her ring. We should arrive until seven. That should give you plenty of time to prepare your assignment- and I do think, in light of your shameful tardiness, you ought to write a half-roll of lesson for me as well. After all, that is the point of these letters- isn't it?_

_Love, _

_Narcissa_

Lucius read and reread the lines, scrolling through a range of emotions. He was excited that the dinner invitation had been accepted, amused at her (probably very accurate) suspicions regarding her sister, faintly worried about the "homework assignment" and utterly abashed at her closing sentence "after all, that is the point of these letters- isn't it?"-that point being to prepare her for Rookwood! He growled in frustration, but softened slightly as he reread the end, "Love, Narcissa". Perhaps she hadn't meant it, but surely it was a start. He ran his finger lightly over the dried ink, imaging where her own hands had been a few hours before. She must have answered his letter as soon as she climbed out of bed…or maybe while she was still sitting in it. He closed his eyes, and pictured her in his mind: her newly blonde hair tousled from sleep, her eyes wide and luminous, skin flushed.

He could almost imagine her next to him. He hadn't noticed it before, but the stationary she had used was scented with her perfume. The light, soapy fragrance smelled just as it did when he leaned in for a kiss. He could picture it so clearly- the smooth expanse of her neck exposed, skimming his thumb up its tendon to her jaw, and then cupping her chin to pull her into a kiss…

_What's the matter with me_? Lucius thought, vaguely disgusted with his actions. He could have any woman that he wanted. Why was he wasting so much time on a fantasy of Narcissa Black? _What makes her so different?_ He demanded, then sighed as his brain swiftly provided the answer: everything. Narcissa only _looked_ like the women he usually dated, but she was something else.

The hours from morning until dinner passed at a snail-like pace. Even when the appointed hour arrived, Lucius was acutely aware that he couldn't simply descend to the front hall and wait. It would never do to appear so eager. His father would be disgusted, and his mother's suspicions about Narcissa would be confirmed. He forced himself to wait in his room as the doorbell chimed and he listened to his mother's greeting drift up the stairs.

"Orion Black!" She gushed. He could see her clearly in his mind: his tiny blonde mother standing on the tips of her toes to drag the Black patriarch into an uncomfortable hug. Lucius could almost picture his mother's bright, perhaps overly effusive greeting. He had seen her in action plenty of times to know how her face would be, teeth flashing in the perfect society-matron smile that somehow managed to be both brilliant and bland. "Marius, darling," She turned to her husband, "I don't think that we've had Orion here since…well." Her voice lowered as she treaded near the mention of Mr. Black's deceased wife, "Well- not in far too long! And these must be your daughter?"

He braced himself for a mention of Andromeda. Of course his family knew what had become of the eldest Black girl. He couldn't think of any pureblood family that didn't- but he wouldn't put it past his mother- or his father- to make a passing, pitying reference. They were on their best behaviour, however, or were at least distracted.

"This is Bellatrix." Orion said calmly, "And I'm sure you know her fiancé, Rodolphus."

"Yes, of course. Congratulations on your engagement."

There followed a mumbled conversation that Lucius couldn't make out, except for occasional bits like "ring" and "dress" and "really must have gardenias."

There was no mention of Narcissa. He wondered if she had even come until, almost as an afterthought, Orion added, "And this is Narcissa."

There was a beat of silence, and then Evelyn Malfoy started again, "Oh, my dear- of course I've heard all about you from my son…and no wonder! I had not idea…well, I suppose that's why they send girls to Beauxbatons…"

Lucius winced at his own mention, and then again when his mother said, "My wand! You're so pretty now dear. What happened?"

He couldn't hear Narcissa's reply. No doubt she had mumbled something soft and polite and self-effacing, but he could barely stand the thought of how the remark had made her feel. Kindly intended, she had no doubt taken it to mean that she had looked wretched before.

He was of half a mind to barge downstairs, appearances be damned, but then a house elf knocked on the door, "Mistress Malfoy has sent Dobby for fetching you sir." It said, prostrating itself on the floor and knocking its temple against a table corner as it fell. "The guests have arrived, sir."

Lucius nodded curtly at the vile creature and inspected himself in the mirror a final time. He looked impeccable- every inch the Malfoy heir. He was wearing a burgundy tunic and black trousers underneath sleek black dress robes and his pale blonde hair was tied at the nape of his neck.

With an approving smile, he walked downstairs to dinner. The Blacks and Malfoy were assembled just outside the dining room, engaging in typical idle chatter that seemed to focus mainly on Rodolphus and Bellatrix's wedding plans.

Lucius loved how Narcissa's face seemed to light up the minute he walked into the room. He wanted to go to her instantly, but of course he couldn't. He didn't want to give his mother more fodder for speculation, and besides, it wasn't polite. He walked to his father and accepted a renewed introduction to Orion Black.

"Of course. I saw Lucius earlier this week at my house."

"Really?" Marius lifted a brow. He hadn't known. Obviously, Mrs. Malfoy had more discretion than her son gave her credit for.

"I was visiting Rodolphus." Lucius explained quickly, well aware that his father and Mr. Black did not see eye to eye. He accepted the "we'll talk about this later" look and then seized the opportunity to excuse himself. "In fact, there was something I forgot to ask him…" and slipped away.

Marius's eyes were still following him, so he had to go to his friend. Rodolphus was standing at the fringe of the ring of ladies. Bellatrix was, of course, at its centre, along with Mrs. Malfoy. Narcissa was looking on with a detached expression, but her eyes flickered toward Lucius, and he felt a charge as she did.

Rodolphus cleared his throat, reminding Lucius that he was staring, and he dragged his attention away.

"Hello Rodolphus." He said, trying to think of something to say. A mere month before, he would have been able to chatter for hours with his friend, now it was nearly impossible to think of anything to say. It was as if his brain refused to work in Narcissa's presence.

"Hello Malfoy." Rodolphus answered and, blessedly, began to chatter on about some pixies that he and Mr. Black had shot that morning. Lucius only had to bob his head and make agreeing noises in order to appear as if he was following along.

Dinner was announced, and they went inside. Lucius was amused to find that Narcissa was seated directly across from him at the long table. He knew that this must have been his mother's doing- he didn't need an excuse to look at her now.

Neither Lucius nor Narcissa managed to get more than a handful of words in during the meal. Bellatrix made a passing reference that she was going to invite the Goyles to her wedding and Mr. Blacks's temper flared. "You'll do nothing of the sort." He snapped, "The Goyles are Death Eaters."

Lucius tensed. To his knowledge, his father had not joined the ranks of the charismatic Pureblood leader known as Lord Voldemort, but he heartily supported his cause. Mr. Black undoubtedly didn't know it, but knew Bellatrix and Rodolphus had both been to meetings. Mr. Lestrange, senior, and Rodolphus's brother were already declared.

"And what do you mean by that?" Marius Malfoy snapped.

"I mean that the Death Eaters are nothing more than petty criminals being led blindly by an egomaniacal lunatic."

"You think supporting the Pureblood cause is lunacy? _That's_ something that I never though I'd hear from a Black."

"I think that the way that the Death Eaters are going about it is wrong. It's terrorism. Wizarding society has enough sense to…"

"Terrorism is the only thing that works." Mr. Malfoy defended. "The mutton headed fools in our government are in bed with the Muggles…"

Mrs. Malfoy made a valiant attempt to guide the conversation back to the wedding, but to no avail. She sighed apologetically to the rest of her guests as the battle escalated over roast beef and finally a fruit sorbet.

"Perhaps the young people would like to see the garden." She said as they rose from coffee, Mr. Black and Mr. Malfoy still trading muttered barbs about "the sad state of the Wizengamut" and "blood traitors."

"I had the elves refresh the warming charm just before dinner. It should be nice and toasty near the house. Rodolphus, you know the way…and Lucius…would you mind terribly to show Narcissa?"

"Of course not." He said, already on his feet. He caught Narcissa under the arm without speaking and led her toward the door.

As he suspected, Bellatrix and Rodolphus scurried off toward the potting shed almost as soon as they were outside. He led Narcissa for a little ways off in the opposite direction, before they settled down onto a bench and finally spoke.

"Well now, that's better." Lucius said in an apologetic tone, "I'm sorry about that."

"Don't be." Narcissa's lips curled, "Believe me, I'm used to it. He has the same argument with my aunt and uncle whenever we go into town. My aunt is absolutely scandalized. She thinks that Muggles should be kept on a leash."

"What do you think?" Lucius held his breath. It was an important question, far deeper than they conversations usually went.

"I think…I think that I'm glad that I don't have to worry about it." Narcissa said, "I mean, as long as I don't have to deal with them, I don't really care one way or another."

"But you don't think that Muggles deserve the same rights as wizards!" Lucius said, anxiously.

"Of course not." She laughed and socked him playfully on the arm. He was grateful that she had lightened the mood, but surprised when she followed the remark by saying, "Although its not the punishment of _Muggles_ that concerns me."

"Oh?" He arched a brow, confused by her emphasis.

"Yes. Certain former Slytherin Prefects have failed yet again to submit their homework."

She smirked at him haughtily; so amusingly smug that he didn't have a choice.

He kissed her.

He had stopped being surprised that he still saw fireworks behind his eyes whenever his lips touched hers. He was used to the perfection by now, though he still felt butterflies in his stomach, and more telling responses in other places when she nudged her tongue into his mouth. He stayed like that, faces flush until they parted to draw breath.

"Am I still punished?" Lucius asked.

"Perhaps." Narcissa answered evasively.

"Then I'll have to work harder." He grinned. He knew that he was acting like a fool, but he was starting to care less and less. He didn't feel the need to pretend around Narcissa. It was that, more than anything, which made her company so desirable. It was exciting, but easy too.

"You're awful, Lucius Malfoy." She said, then turned on her heel and disappeared further into the gardens.

He followed, he knew that she wasn't really angry, and found her attempts at playing games endearing.

He followed her to a bench set into the garden wall and settled beside her.

"I've missed you." He said.

Her eyes flashed with surprise, but they quickly settled. "You are good at this, aren't you?"

He didn't understand the question. "What do you mean."

"At making me believe it."

"Believe what?"

"Nevermind."

He wanted to protest. Obviously, she had meant something by the remark. Her pale eyes were shaded with concern, but she ended the conversation in the nicest way possible- by claiming his lips again.

Lucius thought that he could go on kissing her forever. He fought down every spectre of Rookwood as he simply enjoyed the weight of her in his arms, and the sweet puffs of her breath against his cheek and into his mouth.

She finally tried to pull away and he broke the kiss, but he didn't release her completely. He kept his mouth against her skin, trailing over her neck, and then across the décolletage of her gown.

She exhaled sharply as his feathery touch traversed the patch of skin just above her breast. Something wicked flared in him, and he reached to cup the heavy curve. Narcissa gasped again, but melted into the caress, mewling little sounds of approval as he continued to massage her chest.

"Lucius?" She said dreamily, letting her own hands skim the plane of his back. "Lucius, we shouldn't be doing this?"

Was she asking him or telling him. "Yes we should." He answered in either case. He slipped his tongue under her collar, giving her just enough time to squirm before he moved back up again.

"This is part of the lesson?"

Lucius grinned darkly. Hooking his fingers under the shoulder of her dress, he worked it down her arm so that one of her breasts was exposed. "Extra credit."

"Oooooh." Whatever Narcissa had meant to say next was lost as he clamped his teeth around her puckered nipple and then began to kiss and suck until she was practically writhing on the bench. Her fingers had abandoned his back, and were now curled into his hair. He could only imagine its disarray, but he didn't care. He was too intent on pleasing Narcissa to think of anything else…until he heart Orion's voice.

"Narcissa, we're leaving." His voice carried around the corner of the hedge, a half-second before he rounded it himself- and a half-second was simply not enough time.

Lucius jerked his head away, but there was no hiding what they had been up to. Narcissa's dress was still half-undone, a little ring of moisture gleaming in the moonlight around its rosy peak. Her skin was flushed and her hair was tousled- and Lucius imagined that his own condition was not vastly different.

"NARCISSA AVALON BLACK!"

Lucius wished he could dissolve into the pavement. It wasn't for his own sake that he worried- he didn't fear Orion Black or anyone else, but he could already sense the mortification to Narcissa. He could feel it rolling off her in waves as she clawed her gown back into place and stood.

"Daddy, we were….he was….I…" she stumbled for words, and Lucius felt obliged to help her.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Black." He said as evenly as he could manage, "I got carried away. I meant no disrespect to your daughter I was…"

"Get out of the way." Orion gave Lucius no consideration whatsoever as he barrelled past him and pinched Narcissa's arm between his finger and thumb. Narcissa made a little yelp of pain, but didn't resist as he began to physically drag her out of the gardens. "Just like your sister. I ought to have known."  
  
"Daddy, no…"

"Is this what all those dress shop bills were for? So that you could tart yourself up and scurry off into the gardens with the first boy who smiles at you."

"Lucius isn't the first boy w-"

Malfoy winced, even though he knew what Narcissa was meaning to say, he knew that this had been the wrong way to begin the sentence. Orion Black was clearly overcome. He seemed to surprise even himself when his hand went flying through the air, connecting sharply with his daughter's cheek.

She yelped in pain, and then stared at him in shock. Lucius's hands clenched. He hated feeling helpless. He _loathed_ that this was his fault- but what could he do that wouldn't make the situation worse?

"Go and put your cloak on." Orion said in a voice like steel. "Meet your sister in the front hall. We're leaving."

Narcissa swallowed and nodded her head; unshed tears gleaming at the rims of her eyes. She didn't have to be told to leave twice, and quickly scampered away, leaving the two men alone.

Lucius steeled himself for Mr. Black's wrath, but was unprepared for what he actually said.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry, sir?" He said warily. Wasn't Narcissa's father going to hex him for catching his hands down his daughter's shirt.

"Yes. For Narcissa's behaviour. She isn't used to male attention, and she obviously has no idea how to conduct herself in mixed company. If I'd had any idea that she was turning out just like Andromeda…"

"She's _not_ like Andromeda!" Lucius interrupted hotly.

Mr. Black's sneer returned. "and I suppose you know that first hand, do you?"

Lucius didn't quite know what to say. In fairness, back before she started polluting herself with Muggles, he might have snogged Andromeda at a party- but that was true for virtually every Slytherin boy. He hated that Narcissa would be wrongfully branded her type.

Orion didn't wait for an answer, "I had hoped she would turn out like Bellatrix."

"Why can't she turn out like herself?"

Lucius wasn't fully aware that he had spoken aloud until he noticed Mr. Black giving him a quizzical look. "I think…" He started, amazed, "I think you care for the girl."

Lucius swallowed. This wasn't how he meant for the news to come out. Nevertheless, it was as good a time as any. "Yes." He confirmed.

Instantly Orion's face was transformed. Once again, he did not have the reaction that Lucius expected. His face darkened and he lashed out at the young Malfoy, "Then leave her alone. Narcissa has finally gotten what she always wanted- Augustus Rookwood, and I won't have you interfering over some silly, misguided notion that you're in love with her. I know about boys like you. I used to _be_ a boy like you, and I don't want your sort anywhere around my daughter- _especially_ not a Malfoy!"

Before Lucius could compose a reply, he had stalked away.

**NOTE: Slightly racier version is on my Livejournal, but I didn't want to risk putting it here. Hope you enjoy. Keep up the comments- I love hearing what works and what doesn't.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Note: Again, please keep in mind the rating. **

**Chapter 8**

Narcissa was silent on the way home. She was too terrified of what her father was going to do to her to dare to open her mouth. She had seen him this furious only once- the night that Andromeda's name was blasted off the family tree, and she wasn't quite ready to live through that again.

Bellatrix, happily oblivious to her sister's plight, chattered incessantly, so that she and Rodolphus probably didn't even notice the silence of the other two occupants of the carriage.

When they finally arrived home, Bellatrix and Rodolphus both excused themselves to prepare for bed. Narcissa fell into step behind her sister, and winced when her father said, "A moment, Narcissa."

She turned toward him warily.

"I require a word with you in my study."

"Of course, papa." She said in a small voice, and then followed him down the hall.

Of all the rooms in the house, Narcissa spent most of her free time in this dark, quiet space, but it held no comfort for her now- only dread. She stood in front of the desk, hands clasped before her, waiting for him to speak.

"You'd better ring an elf for some ice." He said, gesturing toward her swollen cheek as he sank into his chair.

Narcissa chewed her lip. Did he mean for her to do that now? She didn't dare to move. Instead, she remained facing forward, trying not to shake as her eyes roamed over her father.

He looked so old! Narcissa almost forgot her fear for a moment as she took in the exhausted lines on his handsome face, and the weary curve of his spine as he hunched behind the desk. He was pouring himself a glass of some very strong-smelling alcoholic potion. From the looks of him, he needed it.

Orion downed half of his tumbler before he finally addressed Narcissa, "I expected better from you."

It was worse than she had imagined. She could stand his wrath, but the thought of disappointing her father was far, far worse. "It wasn't what you think!" She stammered, " It was-" She stopped speaking automatically when her father raised his hand.

"Don't waste your breath, Narcissa. I know what I saw."

She was obediently silent. She couldn't prove to her father that Lucius was the first boy who had ever tried to touch her- and she couldn't deny that, in spite of her protestations, it really _had_ been what her father thought. She still tingled at the memory of Lucius's mouth on her skin. Another half hour in the garden and she would have been begging him to take her again- only this time, she wouldn't have had the excuse of being drunk.

"Narcissa, I know that I have not been a perfect father." Again, he precluded interruptions, "I haven't. I didn't quite know what to do with the lot of you when your mother died, but I have tried. Plenty of men would have packed you off to your aunt and had done with you, but I didn't want to let you go. I've _loved_ you, Narcissa, even as I've made mistakes…and I feel that I paid for those mistakes with my…" His eyes clenched tightly. The look of pain on his face was so acute that Narcissa felt her stomach twist, "With _your sister_," He carefully rephrased, "and I don't want to go through it again. I _can't_."

She nodded numbly.

"Each of my daughters is special in her own way. Your oldest sister was very charming. She could make everyone laugh," He said quickly, still looking as if the merest mention of Andromeda was like stabbing daggers in his heart, "Bellatrix has always been exquisitely beautiful…and you…"

"Are the smart one." Narcissa sighed, heavily.

"Yes." Orion acknowledged sternly. "The smart one- and that's nothing to sniff at. Beauty fades, but you could be one of the most brilliant witches of our age. Don't waste yourself on…_this_." He gestured weakly toward her golden hair. "Don't ruin it by being something that you're not."

"But what if this _is_ me?" She said, hating the whine in her tone. Wasn't it possible to be smart _and_ beautiful? Lucius seemed to think so…

As if he could read her mind, Orion said. "I don't want you seeing that Malfoy boy again."

"But-!"

"No buts. It's not you I'm worried about. I know you're a good girl, in spite of what happened tonight- but I don't trust him, Narcissa. Even before what happened today, I've heard rumors…well…He's Cassius's Malfoy's son, and that should say enough. I don't want you near him. If I catch you disobeying me, we'll have trouble." He looked at her sternly, checking to see that his words had sunk in.

Narcissa felt tears pricking at the backs of her eyes. She _knew_ her father was right. Hadn't she discovered on her own that Lucius was just using her as a joke? But the thought of a lifetime without Lucius- of even a few days without his comfort and support felt like a sentence to Azkaban.

Failing to notice his daughter's distress, Orion changed the topic, "I'm very pleased with how things are progressing between you and the Rookwood boy. That's a good match, Cissa. You'd be wise to pursue it."

"But he's a _clerk_." She sneered, the sudden flare of anger subverting her desire to cry.

Orion looked surprised by her retort, "For now." He said coolly, "He certainly won't be for long if he becomes my son-in-law. I thought you liked Augustus Rookwood? For Grendel's sake, Cissa- he used to be all you talked about!"

"Yes." She answered miserably.

"He's escorting you to the ball, correct?"

She nodded again, "Well, that's excellent. Just be yourself, and I'm sure that you'll have an announcement like your sister by summertime. He'd be a fool not to take you."

"But I'd be a fool to take him." She muttered under her breath.

Orion arched a brow.

"I said, 'yes' father." She lied.

"Good. Goodnight, poppet."

"Goodnight Papa." Narcissa said, then retired to her room.

Narcissa harboured no delusions that she would sleep that night. Her mind was too busy whirring with activity. It was darkly amusing that all of her troubles seemed to revolve around boys. Who would believe that only a month ago, she'd only had one real kiss? Now her heart was torn between two men: the right choice, and the one she wanted.

Lucius's owl was sitting on her windowsill when she returned to her room. Her heart skipped a beat. If her father caught her, he'd be furious. Still, she couldn't resist knowing what Malfoy had to say. She untied the parchment and read:

_Dear Narcissa:_

_I hope that I didn't get you in too much trouble. Please send an owl so I'll know. Would it make things better if I did my homework?_

_Wish 1: For you not to get in trouble._

_Wish 2: For your first waltz at the ball._

_Wish 3…is a secret- if I tell you, it won't come true!_

_Love,_

_Lucius_

In spite of her better judgment, Narcissa sat down to write a reply.

_Dear Lucius:_

_I'm very sorry about what happened. Father was very angry, but I haven't received any additional punishment. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. I can't ever remember him hitting me before today, and he's much calmer now. He's just worried. He thinks that boys like you are only after one thing (from girls like me anyhow). He thinks that you are just using me as a conquest to boast about, or **to win a bet with one of your friends**_.

She wrote those last few words with such emphasis that the quill nearly poked through the paper. 

_He's forbidden me to see you anymore. It's probably best if we don't write anymore either. I do thank you for all your assistance, and I hope that we will still be friends._

_Love Always,_

_Narcissa Black._

She sent the owl on its way, and then crawled back into her bed where, in spite of her predictions, she managed to cry herself to sleep.

Bellatrix was awake the next morning at the crack of dawn. "Wake up, Narcissa!" she said, sweeping into the room, "Today is the day of the ball!"

Narcissa looked at the clock and yawned, "It's not for another fourteen hours!" She growled.

Bellatrix sighed, "We have a lot to do! Come on!"

Grudgingly, Narcissa followed her older sister down the steps.

She was surprised to see that Bellatrix had transformed their dining room into a makeshift salon and spa. Narcissa could only assume that her father was in on the scheme. Some of the items laid out on the table looked quite new, and there was a witch she didn't recognize who was introduced as having been sent to style their hair.

Narcissa remembered, to her horror, that she'd never had a fitting for her gown, so that was taken care of first. Then, she spent the next several hours being pampered and beautified by the staff. It was silent, but busy. To her eternal relief, Narcissa discovered that she could block out conscious thought almost completely.

Bellatrix didn't mention the Malfoys except to note that Orion and Cassius had nearly drawn their wands over the Death Eater issue before Evelyn Malfoy pointed out that it was late and the girls were probably tired.

"You're being very quiet today, Narcissa." Bellatrix said, frowning when her sister didn't respond to a question.

"I'm just…thinking." Narcissa lied.

"About Rookwood?" Bellatrix teased while making a gagging sound. "Pondering the eternal question: could he _be_ any more boring."

"Probably not." Narcissa responded, causing Bellatrix to gape in surprise. "It's nearly six o'clock. I'm going to go put on my gown."

In truth, it was still an hour before she needed to put on her dress, but Narcissa wanted to escape to her room. Bellatrix's mention of Rookwood had dislodged a few of the thoughts that she was trying to avoid, and she wanted privacy.

She groaned when she saw Lucius's owl pecking on the glass behind her curtains. She debated not letting him in, but then she figured that the little creature would probably just try another window- possibly alerting Bellatrix or her father to its presence.

She rushed over to the sash and threw it open, letting the little grey eagle owl settle on her arm as she untied the parchment.

"Shoo!" She said, pushing the bird back onto the windowsill and trying to wave it on its way. Lucius must have ordered it to await a reply, because it didn't fly off immediately. Instead, it tried to swoop back in. Narcissa tossed it back into the ledge, and then closed the window, leaving it to peck angrily on the glass again.

She knew that she ought to have ignored the letter, or at least hidden it for later, but her curiosity was too great. She locked the door to her room, then sat on her bed and unrolled it.

_Dear Narcissa:_

_What do you mean you aren't allowed to speak to me anymore? That's ridiculous! You are a grown woman and your father is overreacting. I'll speak with him tonight and smooth things over. I can't wait to see you, and I hope that you will, at least, be able to make my other two wishes come true._

_-Lucius_

Narcissa was puzzled by the letter- his other two wishes? One of them had to be the waltz, but he hadn't revealed the third. She sighed in frustration. She'd have to write him back now! She couldn't risk his showing up at the ball and confronting her father. If he did, there was sure to be a row. Orion had made it very clear that his preference was for Rookwood- and he was mad enough about the Malfoys to begin with. If Augustus told her father about the lessons…

Narcissa shivered as the thought flashed through her mind. She lunged for a quill and some parchment, and was about to put lines to paper when the door to her bedroom rattled.

"Cissa? Cissa- what are you doing in there?"

Narcissa cursed her sister under her breath, wishing that Bellatrix would learn to keep her voice down. "I'm undressed." She called back, hoping to buy some time. It was no use.

"_Alohamora!" _Bellatrix bellowed, and the door burst open, permitting the elder Black to waltz inside. Happily, she was too self-absorbed to notice that her sister had been lying about her state of attire. "My robes are a disaster!" She moaned, sweeping in and holding the deep scarlet gown against her chest. "Look at the sleeves!"

Narcissa looked, but couldn't tell what her sister was getting at.

"Look at the lace!" Bella snapped in exasperation, "It completely covers my hands. You can't see my ring at all." She glared as if this was Narcissa's fault. "You'll have to give me your dress."

"My dress!" Narcissa blinked. Her eyes went automatically to the ice-blue gown she had purchased during her shopping trip with Lucius. Madame Kiri had made it specially. It was the most beautiful thing that she'd ever owned.

"Yes." Bella said, ignoring her sister's shocked expression and going to where it hung. "No one's going to be looking at _you_ anyway."

Narcissa stared for a moment, as eighteen years of sitting by and watching her sister claim all the glory warred with the spark of self-esteem that Lucius had ignited. She felt an odd sort of energy building inside. As Bellatrix reached for the hangar, it finally burst free. "No!" Narcissa shouted.

"No?" Bellatrix frowned and turned around, nearly in disbelief.

"No!" Narcissa repeated, looking shocked at her own outburst, but determined. "It's MINE!"

"Not anymore." Bellatrix said icily, absolute confidence in her voice. She jerked the dress off its hanger and started toward the door.

"Lucius bought it for me and it's MINE." Narcissa said again, clawing for one of the sleeves.

"Lucius?" Bellatrix said, eyes glittering wickedly. "What'd you do to have to get _this?"_ She taunted, but didn't let go.

"N-nothing." Narcissa almost lost her grip. That wasn't entirely true, was it? Wasn't Lucius just buttering her up for a conquest? She was supposed to hate him- but she didn't. She couldn't. Nothing was making sense anymore. All she knew was that she liked the way that Lucius made her feel. Whether he meant it or not, when he smiled at her, when he told her that she deserved a beautiful dress and admiring smiles, she believed him. She didn't want to go back to standing in the shadows anymore. "It's mine!" She said again, tugging with all her might, just as Bellatrix pulled in the opposite direction.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of struggle, but then a sickening rip filled the air as delicate satin split down the center of the bodice, frayed lace and crystal beads popping off and rolling onto the floor.

Narcissa gasped in horror, but Bellatrix only snarled. "Fine, keep your ugly dress…" and sauntered out the door as her sister collapsed onto the ground, clutching the ruined gown to her chest. There was no way to fix it. There wasn't time, even if she could think of a spell to replace the shredded fabric. Besides- she wouldn't put it past Bellatrix to cast an anti-glamour on her to undo it out of spite. None of her other new dresses were fancy enough for a ball. She went to her closet and tried to rummage something out.

It was hopeless.

Narcissa stared in dismay at the racks of threadbare, lumpy cast-offs that she had accumulated over the years. There was nothing even close to the beauty of the dress that Lucius had bought her- nothing even vaguely serviceable except a high-necked green gown that Bellatrix had worn to one of her pre-debutante parties half a decade before. Narcissa put it on, and then wanted to cry again. She was swimming in it. Even tying the sash as tightly as it would go, the fabric draped sloppily around her body, obscuring her curves and making her shining, glamorous hair look patently out of place.

Then, that shouldn't be a surprise. Wasn't it always out of place?

Only a few moments before, Narcissa had been caught up in the memory of how Malfoy had made her feel beautiful…but wasn't it all just an illusion? It was paint, and dye. The girl in the mirror: the girl drowning in a dowdy dress, hiding behind unkempt hair- that was how the _real_ Narcissa looked. Bellatrix was right. No one would be looking at her. They only would have been looking at a Narcissa who didn't really exist.

Brushing the tears from her eyes, Narcissa waved her wand over her head. She felt like something cold was trickling over her skin as the hair charm that Madame Ursaline had applied was broken, and her gilded locks slipped out of their pins and muddied back into a non-descript brown that hung unevenly over her face.

_Yes. That was more like it,_ she thought. That was what Bellatrix wanted to see. That was the face that couldn't capture Rookwood's attention. That was how she had been before everything had started to go wrong.

Lucius wouldn't even want to toy with her now.

Narcissa swallowed hard, trying to ignore how hollow that made her feel. She felt rather pathetic- she was so infatuated with him that she wanted him to abuse her trust, if only it meant that she had his attention for a little longer.

"Girls? Are you ready?"

Narcissa blinked, wondering how long she had been staring into the mirror. Her father's voice was drifting through the hall. It must be time to leave.

She hastily ran a comb through her hair- that change, at least, had become habit- and wedged a rose behind her ear. She frowned at her reflection, but she didn't have time for anything more. Bellatrix was standing in the hall. She was wearing the lovely scarlet gown (whose sleeves had been conspicuously shortened), and regarded Narcissa with a smug expression.

Orion blinked.

"You've…changed your hair back, poppet." He said carefully.

Narcissa shrugged. "I didn't like it the old way."

"And your gown is…er…not the one I thought you'd be wearing."

The youngest Black was able to take _some_ satisfaction from the momentary panic on her sister's face. "My other one got ripped." She replied, "But this one is fine."

"Of course. Well…I believe that Mr. Lestrange and Mr. Rookwood are downstairs. Shall we?"

The two young ladies nodded and followed their father down to the great hall.

Rodolphus beamed as Bellatrix drifted down the staircase.

Rookwood looked somewhat less pleased. "Narcissa, you look…" He let his voice trail off, sounding as if he couldn't think of a compliment to complete his sentence. "You look different. I like the other way better."

She was somewhat stung by his bluntness. "Well, I didn't." she retorted.

He frowned, harshly. "That dress is hideous."

"Thank you." She growled, tersely, frankly amazed that she hadn't noticed from the beginning what a vile little toad he was. She halfway hoped that her father had overheard. Perhaps his opinion of Rookwood would change when he learned just how shallow his clerk's interests were founded.

Orion apparently hadn't hear, however. He greeted the men, and then directed them all out onto the front courtyard to board the carriage that would convey them to the party.

The Rhys-Boomslang manor was not far from Ravensden, and the trip took less than an hour. The carriage was surprisingly quiet as they rode. Bellatrix and Rodolphus passed the time curled around one another, whispering into each other's ears, while Mr. Rookwood and Orion discussed one of their cases at work.

Before long, they arrived at the house. Narcissa could see it from more than a mile away. Muggles-be-damned, the Rhys-Boomslangs had lit the castle up like a birthday cake. She smiled, feeling a little bit better about the party. Even if Lucius and Augustus were horrible, she could still have fun. She did love pretty decorations and music. If she ever had a home of her own, she would delight in throwing balls.

_If_. She reminded herself.

The Black carriage was behind a long line of others, so it was several minutes before they rolled up to the front of the house. Liveried Servants guided them indoors, and then relieved them of their cloaks. Mrs. Rhys-Boomslang and her husband were right inside the door. They welcomed Mr. Black at once, smiling and nodding as he introduced Augustus, and then latching onto Bellatrix and exclaiming over the news of her engagement. Narcissa was still furious with her sister, but their hosts' behaviour didn't make it any worse. Narcissa was used to this treatment: a cursory. "And you remember my youngest." From her father, and a pair of polite, but dismissive nods. 

Finished with the receiving line, they drifted further inside the house. Narcissa felt a certain satisfaction from Rookwood's thinly veiled expression of unease. She could tell that he had never been to such a fancy ball before, and he was more than a little overwhelmed. He was copying Orion's every move, and casting his eyes all around the front hall, seemingly overstimulated by the unfamiliar lights and noise.

They finally entered the steps that led down to the ballroom. Orion stepped up to the servant and whispered their names, then stood at the top of the entry while they were announced:

"Mr. Orion Black. Miss Bellatrix Black, Mr. Rodolphus Lestrange. Miss Narcissa Black and Mr. Augustus Rookwood."

Narcissa followed her sister and future brother-in-law to the top step, lingered just long enough to be seen, and then descended into the swirling mass of partygoers with Rookwood following in her wake. She smiled to herself, admitting that it was almost a relief not to be stared at anymore…except…

She frowned. She felt a vague prickling on the back of her neck. Someone _was_ staring at her- but who? She spun around. Then she froze: it was Lucius.

..ooOOoo.. 

Lucius was half-convinced that she wasn't going to come.

All afternoon he had imagined the scenarios- Orion Black discovering his letters, Orion Black locking Narcissa in her room, Orion Black shipping his youngest daughter back to France…His fears had grown steadily worse as the day wore on with no reply to his letter.

He really ought not to have sent it. Things were already bad enough, but he had to at least try to find out if she was okay. All night he had replayed the scene in the garden in his mind. He had relived the slap again and again, experiencing it all in slow motion: Orion's hand sweeping through the air, the sharp clap of flesh against flesh, and then the shock and shame on Narcissa's face as she was dragged away.

Lucius couldn't abide that he was the reason she'd been hurt- or that he'd simply stood there and done nothing to stop it. Surely there was something that he could have done? Something that he could have said? He had dwelled on this for the better part of the night. The conclusion that he finally reached didn't make him feel any better: He couldn't blame Orion Black for what he thought.

Lucius hated to admit it to himself, but he'd probably question his own motives if he were in Mr. Black's shoes. Lucius hadn't even been honest with Narcissa about what his true intentions were. He had pretended that he was trying to help her woo someone else. Even if that had been the truth to begin with, it had certainly changed- but he was still skulking around in shadows- still pretending that he couldn't possibly care.

He hadn't intended to fall in love with her.

Lucius sighed heavily, finally admitting to himself that was exactly what had happened. He had steeled himself against the stereotypically pretty society girls that his mother and father paraded through their home. He was immune to snobbery, polish, and coquettes…but he hadn't counted on meeting anyone like Narcissa. Like a stream of water flowing over a stone, she had seeped through the cracks in his façade and pried apart his resolve. Surely if he could make Mr. Black see that, he would understand? After all, how could he possibly prefer Rookwood- a mere clerk in his office- to the heir of the Malfoy fortune? That was what he kept telling himself anyway.

He was going to tell her at the party- _if_ she arrived, that was.

"Lucius, if you're going to keep staring around like that, you ought to just go away and look for her." Kitty finally said in exasperation. "People are starting to whisper."

He frowned. He knew that he and Kitty were merely attending together as friends- her fiancé was once again gone on business, but he hated to think that he was making her uncomfortable. "Do you want to dance?" He asked sheepishly.

"No!" Kitty snapped, but then laughed to let him know that there was no harm done, "Now, go! You're acting pathetic!"

Lucius wanted to stay and dispute this charge, but he wanted to see Narcissa more, so he started drifting through the crowd. He arrived back in the main ballroom at the very second that the Black's were announced. His eyes swept eagerly upward. They hesitated disapprovingly on Rookwood, but then he saw her, and his expression broadened into a smile.

Had she ever been more beautiful? Lucius didn't see how that was possible. He had never seen her complexion more bright, or her lips in more desperate need of being kissed. She had descended all the way to the bottom of the steps before he realized that something was different.

She hadn't worn the dress her bought for her. It rankled him…but then he noticed that her hair was different too. It was brown again, combed, but already breaking free of its loose bindings. The gown was absolutely ghastly. No doubt it was another hand-me-down from her sister. This one was two inches too long and she tripped a little on the final stair.

It was completely adorable. Lucius wouldn't deny that he preferred the blonde- it brightened her features and suited her cool, arresting demeanour- but this was special too. This was how she had looked when she was wholly his- before he had handed her to the undeserving Rookwood- and how she remained inside his mind.

The infernal Rookwood had his arm twisted around hers, though he was practically as far away from her as physically possible while they remained so-entwined. He was jerking her toward the supper room, but Narcissa turned around. Then their eyes met.

Lucius's stomach flip-flopped as a range of motions scrolled across her face: surprise, displeasure, and finally…panic? She snapped her head back around again, probably hoping that he hadn't seen her. Her felt it like a punch in the gut, but it didn't stop him from following.

Rookwood and Narcissa stopped inside the dining room. Rookwood was still pinching the edge of Narcissa's shapeless robes, but was engaged in conversation with Abercrombie Ghoulsby, another counselor on the Wizengamut. Bits of their words wafted toward where Lucius had stopped behind a potted palm. "…sentence….rather severe…..only muggles after all….not as if one of THEM is going to believe a possessed baby doll could have done it…." The men were intent on the topic, while Narcissa was forced to stand mutely behind Rookwood like a puppy on a string.

"Narcissa." Lucius whispered from behind the plant.

Her expression blanched, and she slowly turned.

"Lucius?" She mouthed, squinting through the palm.

He pushed one hand through the foliage and gestured for her to come to him.

She shook her head violently "no", but he persisted.

She tried to tug Augustus away.

"Do you _mind?" _He snapped, but otherwise ignored her. She extracted her arm from his.

"I need to find the ladies' lounge." She said, but the remark received no acknowledgment. Glaring at Lucius, she slipped away.

Lucius growled in annoyance. Surely she wasn't really going to follow her father's dicate that they couldn't speak? She'd be able to explain it away here, after all. They were in plain sight! At least- they were until Narcissa ducked behind a tapestry.

Hampered by the plant, Lucius was several strides behind, but he followed her doggedly, slipping behind the cloth. He had to pause as he passed beyond the barrier. It was nearly pitch black on the other side. The ceiling grazed his head, so he assumed it was a passageway for the elves. This conclusion was confirmed when a tiny, grey body bearing a tray of champagne squeezed past him toward the main hall.

"Narcissa?" He called out softly.

When she didn't answer, he collared the elf. "A woman went this way!" He barked.

Whimpering, the creature pointed down the hall, and then toward a flight of stairs.

Lucius followed the passage, relieved to hear footfalls a little bit ahead of him. He wove after the sound until they finally stopped. He continued forward, and then blinked as he stepped out into the open night.

He was in a garden.

Once again, it took his eyes a moment to adjust. After they did, he instantly placed the tall, bare rosebushes and imposing walls of hedge.

Lucius saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye and followed it. "Narcissa!" He cried, louder now that they were outside. He assumed that they were well away from the party. No warming charm had been cast here, and no flowers continued to bloom. The only ornament was the jewel-like sky.

"Narcissa!" He called again. He was gaining on her. He rounded another hedge, and then nearly collided with her back.

Miss Black gasped in surprise as she was caught, but didn't try to struggle away. "Lucius!" She said in a hushed tone. Then, as if remembering herself, she stiffened her spine and rephrased, in a more formal tone: "Mr. Malfoy!"

Lucius ignored her aloof expression and threaded his arms around her waist. "You didn't answer my letter." He said, dragging her against his chest. "I didn't know what had happened. I didn't know if you were safe."

Narcissa tried ineffectively to push him away, the flats of her palms pressing against his chest. "I can't be here!" She yelped. "If my father sees us."

"Then I'll tell him the truth." Lucius whispered soothingly.

"What truth?" Narcissa asked, but he didn't have time to reply before another voice rang through the night, not too far away.

"Narcissa?" Orion Black's voice boomd. "Are you out here?" There was a dull thud, and then the sound of a house-elf yelping. "Miss and young master is this way!" It whined.

Lucius's heart clenched at the look of panic on Narcissa's face. "I have to GO!" She exclaimed, and tried to wrench away. He still didn't let her. Catching her hand, he pulled her backwards through the trees.

"This way!" He commanded.

If she hadn't obeyed, he would have carried her. The voices were getting closer, and more distinct.

"Now, Augustus, surely the elf is wrong. Narcissa's just…a bit of a loner. I'm sure she was feeling stifled by the party…"

Lucius pulled them through an opening in the hedges, and then across an open field. He was running, and Narcissa struggled to keep up, but she managed. The voices grew more distant as they neared a small, dark structure.

"The orangery." Lucius muttered. He stopped for a moment to fish out his wand, opened the door, and then herded Narcissa inside.

As soon as she was in, he closed and locked the door again, then put his ear against it, listening for any sign that they had been seen. After hearing nothing but silence, he turned back around, started toward Narcissa and advanced on her until she was flush against the wall.

He wanted to kiss her. He had _never _wanted it so badly, but she ducked away from his lips.

"This has to stop!" She yelped and squirmed away.

"What does?" Lucius growled. "Why?"

"Because I don't want to play anymore." She whispered desperately. He could see a tear trickling down her cheek. "I don't want to get hurt."

"I won't let your father hurt you." Lucius swore. "I'll take you away if I have to."

"Take me away?" she looked confused and stared at him for a minute, but then shook her head as if to clear it. "I can't do this Lucius. I can't bear it."

He sighed, realizing that this was the moment of truth. If she still wanted Rookwood, after everything, was he strong enough to step away and surrender?

_No._ He realized grimly. He couldn't. He'd convince her- or at least he'd keep trying. Nothing had ever been more obviously essential to his own happiness- to his own survival.

"I will _never_ hurt you, Narcissa." He said, as earnestly as he knew how. "Never intentionally."

"Liar!" She hissed. Her eyes were suddenly flooded with tears, and he felt a prickle of alarm.

"Narcissa? I-"

"Is this funny for you?" She spat, swiping ineffectually at her eyes, which were now leaking profusely. "Is it something that you can brag about to your friends? Sad, desperate little Narcissa Black. Tell her she's pretty and she'll follow you anywhere?"

"You _are_ pretty." He blinked, dumbfounded. "You're beautiful."

She lifted a hand, looking as if she intended to slap him, but let it drop at the last moment, her resolve seeming to leave her in a thin wail. "I don't have to be beautiful, or special, or…or anything. I just wanted to be left alone. I wish you'd never shown me."

"Shown you what?" His heart was thudding in his chest as he listened to the nonsensical babbling, trying to sort it out. Obviously, he had done something to upset her, but what?

"What it might be like…what it would be like to really be loved."

"But Narcissa." He shook his head, not knowing how to get it through his head. Hadn't his slavish devotion for the past three weeks been proof enough? He was _Lucius_ Malfoy. Snide, arrogant, sometimes cruel, and always self-contained…but he had been brought to his knees by this small, unassuming girl and she didn't even realize the power that she had. There was only one way that he could think of- the wordless way that he had discovered first.

She was opening her mouth to protest again, but this time he didn't let her. He covered her lips with his, smothering her protest between the gentle, tender pressure of his lips.

Narcissa continued to squirm against him for a moment, but gradually she stilled. The hands that had been balled to fists opened, and then settled on his shoulders, drawing him close. Some tension melted from his body as the inescapable pull between them took hold. His tongue and lips continued to lavish attention on her as his fingers worked over her back and bottom, feeling the soft curves of her body hidden beneath the dress. He wanted, so desperately, to peel it away- to strip off all of the barriers between them and make her finally and completely his.

"Oh, Narcissa…" he moaned into her ear when they finally broke for breath, "Narcissa, you can't know…"

"Am I getting better?" She said tightly.

He lifted her hand and kissed each digit individually, "You've surpassed your teacher." He assured her, then moved forward for another demonstration of what he meant.

This time, she didn't bother to resist. She fell bonelessly against his chest as his fingers rooted for the fastenings of her robes and stripped them off of her shoulders, once again exposing the luscious swells of her breasts.

Her fingers raked tentatively through his hair as he lowered his lips to one pink peak and began to nip and nuzzle it to taut attention. She arched into him, and he let another palm slip downwards, this time cupping the curve of her bottom and pushing her against him.

"Is this what you want?" he panted into her ear, raising his head for a moment to feather kisses along her jaw.

To his utter disbelief, she answered, "No."

"No?" he backed away, horrified.

"No, I mean…I want….I wish…"

"There they are."

Lucius and Narcissa both spun around. To Malfoy's mingled horror and disbelief, he found that he had been caught, for the second time in as many days, with his hands on Orion Black's daughter's naked breasts.

This time, he didn't give Mr. Black a chance to go at his daughter. He closed around Narcissa like a shield, bracing as he waited for the older man to draw his wand, his tension only lifting when he saw that Rookwood was there as well.

"I told you to leave Malfoy alone!" Orion roared, advancing on the couple. His face was as red as lava.

"I told you…"

"I love her!" Lucius blurted, refusing to loosen his grasp.

That, at least, gained a moment of stunned silence from everyone involved.

"You…?" Orion blinked several times, disbelieving.

"Very funny, Malfoy." Rookwood snarled. "You've won your bet."

"Bet?" Lucius paled.

Augustus smirked, "Mr. Black knows all about it." He turned to his employer. "I'm sorry sir. I ought to have kept a better watch on her."

Lucius looked from face to face: Narcissa, terrified, shaking and shamed, Rookwood looking smugly self-important (and not nearly upset enough for a man who had just caught his date in a clench with another man), and Orion, the vein in his forehead throbbing as if it was about to burst.

"It wasn't your fault, Rookwood." Orion said in a deadly whisper. He reached for his daughter, but Lucius hauled her beyond his grasp.

"I love her." He said again.

Orion faltered, but this time, Narcissa interrupted. "No, he doesn't."

It was Lucius's turn to be shocked. In this moment of distraction, Narcissa managed to twist away. "He doesn't daddy. Augustus is right." Lucius shook his head, barely believing what he heard. He felt as if he was standing outside his body, watching someone else stare at her as she continued: "It was all a bet that Malfoy had that he could turn me away from Rookwood…that he could make me feel…believe…." The rest of the sentence was lost in a choke. "I was so stupid." She said, shaking.

"Narcissa, no!" Lucius shouted, lunging after her, but Rookwood caught him with a stunner before he could grasp her shoulder.

"You've done enough damage, Malfoy!" Rookwood spat, zapping him with another jolt from his wand for good measure.

Lucius's body curled up in pain. He could taste blood and soil in his mouth, and one of his ribs felt broken, but it was nothing to the agony ripping through his heart. "Narcissa." He rasped, "Narcissa, it's true. I didn't mean to love you, but I do."

She was being led out of the orangery, her dress back on her shoulders now and her father's cloak tied around her neck. She balked when she heard him.

"Lucius?" She asked, staring at him, but not yet daring to believe.

"It was my third wish." He croaked, "I wanted you to love me back."

**TO BE CONTINUED**

**Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to comment. Knowing that the stories bring a little bit of enjoyment to people other than myself are a big part of what makes writing so fun! If you haven't commented yet, I'd love to hear what you think.  
**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: As usual, be mindful of the rating. It is not my intent to corrupt the innocent.**

**Chapter 9**

He loved her.

Narcissa felt the same, sickening sort of elation that she got from swooping suddenly on a broom. She didn't know why she finally believed it. Nothing had really changed- nothing but hearing him say it aloud. He could have easily lied, but something of the desperation in his voice rang true. She couldn't believe that he would go to so much effort for a lie- that he would debase himself in front of Rookwood and her father, or continue the game so long even after he had clearly already won. He loved her- but she was terrifyingly certain that it was too late to matter at all.

"Daddy?" she whispered anxiously as Orion steered her toward the front door and their carriage, "Daddy, may I-?"

"I don't want to hear another word." He lashed back at her. He pushed her into the compartment. She was stunned when Rookwood climbed in behind her. "I have to wait until Bella and Rodolphus make their announcement." Orion explained. "I'll be back to discuss this with you then."

"Of course, sir." Rookwood said in a smug tone.

The carriage door slammed shut like the bars of a cell, and Narcissa and Augustus were left alone in darkness.

Narcissa flinched automatically when he pulled out his wand, then again when he flicked it at her dress. Instantly, the shapeless gown transfigured into something tighter.

"That was disgusting, Narcissa." Rookwood said in the tone one might use to speak with an errant child. "I won't tolerate behaviour like that in the future…and I want all of these wretched dresses burned."

Her cheeks flamed, "I hardly think that you have any right to-"

"That's an issue we'll be taking up with your father." He responded cryptically.

Narcissa jumped again as an enchantment zapped out of Rookwood's wand and hit her hair. It fell around her shoulders in gentle waves, but was still brown.

"The blonde looks better." Rookwood said in an infuriatingly condescending tone, "But I don't think I like the attention it draws. Yes… Brunette is more tasteful." He continued, almost to himself.

Narcissa fumed, but didn't answer. She spent the rest of the ride staring out the window, thinking over what had happened, and was never so grateful to see home. She bounded inside before Rookwood could catch up,stripped off the transfigured dress, then threw herself across the bed. Perhaps if she was asleep when her father came home, he would withhold her punishment until morning? She was certain that she would be punished. She could expect nothing less than the treatment that Andromeda had received…but she found that prospect held little fear. Andromeda had been made to marry her Ted Tonks. Being made to marry Lucius Malfoy was hardly a fate that Narcissa would resist. Of course, Lucius wouldn't be happy about it…or maybe he would? She felt a delicious shiver down her spine as she replayed his words again and again. _"It was my third wish…I wanted you to love me back_."

Unsurprisingly, sleep refused to come. In spite of her earlier plan, she bolted out of bed as soon as she heard the front door open, then darted to the top of the stairs.

Orion stared up at her, unspeaking, while Bellatrix and Rodolphus filed past wordlessly. She might have imagined it, but Bellatrix looked almost sympathetic.

"Papa-" Narcissa began as soon as they were gone, but Orion held up his hand. "I have to speak with Mr. Rookwood." He said in a tired, angry tone, "_Then_ I'll deal with you."

Narcissa sank down onto the top step, her mind whirring even as the minutes inched past. What was going on? Why was Rookwood even still here? Shouldn't her father have gone to speak with the Malfoys, or was he worried that Rookwood, in his anger, was going to spread rumours about what he'd seen?

It seemed like hours before she heard footsteps in the hall. Augustus didn't even look up at her as he walked out the front door. A moment later, her father called her name.

Narcissa marched stoically into her father's office. She was once again struck by how old and tired he looked. His fingers were rooting in his grey hair, tugging it into disarray, and he had a pair of spectacles on his nose. He gestured for Narcissa to sit, and she did so.

"You'll have to get married." He said bluntly.

Narcissa nodded her head. She tried to keep a smile from breaking out on her face. "It will have to be quick before people start to talk. I wish that we weren't detracting from Bellatrix- since she's the only one of my daughters who _deserves_ a celebration." He said tersely, "But its how it has to be."

Narcissa nodded.

"I'll have your aunt take you shopping tomorrow. We'll have to have a small ceremony for family, but you can hardly be expecting a real wedding."

"Of course not." She whispered back.

"We'll talk more in the morning."

"Of course, papa." Narcissa said, as contritely as she could manage. She stood from her seat, and had almost made it back to the door when her father's voice carried after him.

"I didn't really think you'd do it, Cissa." He sighed heavily.

"What?" She asked warily.

"Land him after all these years. It wasn't cheap, mind you. But-"

"All these years?" A vague prickle of alarm ran over her skin.

"Yes. Rookwood. Haven't you been dotty for him all this time? I'd admit it was a damn fine piece of work if I wasn't so disgusted." He snapped.  
  
Narcissa's knees buckled. She swayed and caught hold of the desk.

"Marry…Rookwood? But… Lucius!" Her eyes flashed desperately. "It was Lucius that you caught me with! It's _Lucius_ who wants me."  
  
Orion gave her a withering glance, "Tell me you aren't that naïve, Narcissa. Even if Lucius did love you- which is preposterous- Marius Malfoy would never allow it. You're lucky that Rookwood will still have you- even if it did cost a tidy sum to make it happen."

"Cost?" Narcissa wanted to vomit. The feeling grew as her father described what it had taken for Rookwood to agree to marry her: A house, money, and a promotion to junior counsellor on the Wizengamut.

"But, Papa! I don't want to marry him!" She wailed.

"Well, you should have thought of that before, shouldn't you?" He bellowed.

Narcissa knew better than to say anything more. She ran back to the safety of her room, her eyes already filling with tears again.

Narcissa didn't know how long she remained curled up on her floor, sobbing as her heart finally broke in two. Her solitude was eventually ended, however, by a knock on the door.

"Go away!" She hissed, but her command was ignored. The door creaked open. Through tears, Narcissa saw her sister slip inside.

She didn't know if she could stand Bellatrix gloating. After everything that had happened, she just might snap. Still, she could expect nothing else from her sister, so she was utterly astonished when Bellatrix settled on the bed beside her and wrapped her arms around her shoulders.

It was an awkward embrace. Bellatrix was hardly the type for hugs, but she was making an obvious effort. "I'm so sorry Cissa." She said quietly, in a voice that Narcissa fancied her mother might have shared. She brushed damp hair out of her little sister's eyes. "Rodolphus and I both are. I had no idea that you really liked Lucius. If I did-"

"You mean that you had no idea that Lucius liked me." Narcissa said savagely, jerking away and hiding her eyes behind a curtain of mousy hair again. "I didn't either." She added a moment later. It was only fair, after all.

"I just thought…" Bellatrix started, but then stopped and shook her head. "I was jealous." She confessed in a low voice. "It's _my_ turn Cissa." She started in an angry tone, but calmed herself. "I don't know what will happen now."

"P-papa says I have to m-marry Rookwood." She sobbed.

Bellatrix bobbed her head. "I heard him. Rodolphus tried to talk to him on the way home from the party. He said he's never known Malfoy to play around with Pureblood girls. If he said that he loves you, then he means to marry you."

"But Papa wasn't convinced."

Bellatrix shook her head sadly. "At least you like Rookwood?" She said hopefully.

Narcissa smirked, "I liked what I thought Rookwood was…but he isn't. He's terrible." Steadying her voice, she told Bellatrix some of the things that Rookwood had said and done. When she finished, her sister's eyes were flashing angrily.

"I knew he was a weasel." Bellatrix said. "He waddles around after Daddy nodding about Voldemort being a hooligan, and then comes to the meetings and spouts off about the Pureblood cause."

"Meetings?" Narcissa momentarily forgot her anguish as her brow knitted. "You really have gone then?"

Bellatrix nodded, "I went with Rodolphus. His father and Malfoy's are huge supporters of the Dark Lord."

At the mention of Malfoy, Narcissa's face fell again. "I didn't know." She said in a small voice. "Bella, you can't imagine what its like. I feel like…when he's near me…just thinking about him…" She struggled to put her thoughts into words.

Bellatrix nodded knowingly, "I know exactly what you mean. I nearly died when Rodolphus didn't give me a ring last March on my birthday…It was all I could think about. I can't imagine what it must be like, but…Cissa, surely there's something you can do?"

"I can't make myself fall in love with him." Narcissa sighed.

Bellatrix frowned, staring off into space. Her eyes rested on a stack of Narcissa's books…then she gasped. "But Cissa, you can!"

Narcissa's features screwed up into puzzlement.

"The love potion!" Bellatrix exclaimed. "It's almost ready, isn't it?"

Narcissa nodded slowly.

"You only need a bit of his hair. Surely we have some of that lying around now. He's been here so often…" She pulled her wand out of her pocket and swished it into the air. "_Accio Rookwood's hair!_" For a minute, nothing happened, and then a few tawny wisps of hair attached themselves to Bellatrix's wand.

She looked at them with distaste, then plucked them off and handed them to her sister.

"There." She said. "It works both ways, doesn't it?"

"I can't!" Narcissa's eyes were wide. "If I get caught…"

"Who cares if you get caught?" Bellatrix shrugged. "The only one who could complain is Rookwood, and he wouldn't dare. He wouldn't want to be married to a felon, after all." She pointed out reasonably.

"But I don't _want_ to love him!" Narcissa protested, and then bit her lip as she realized how ridiculous she must sound.

"Maybe you would if he loved you back?" Bellatrix reached for _Most Potente Potions_ – Malfoy must have returned it before he left- and flipped through until she found the dog-eared page of ingredients. "It says that two people have to drink from the potion for it to work, and that they will both fall '_Hopelessly and utterly in love, even to the point of death. If asked, even under Veritaserum, the potion's recipients will swear that they do not want the curse to be lifted_'…Narcissa- its perfect."

"No."

"Narcissa, it's the only way!" Bellatrix stared into her sister's eyes for a long time. Then, with a heavy sigh, she pressed the hairs into Narcissa's palm and curled her fingers around them. "Think about it, Narcissa. If Lucius really loves you back- and he can't have you- he would at least want you to be happy without him."

"Do you think that?"

"Wouldn't you?"

Narcissa wasn't sure. She considered the question all night as she lay silently in her bed. She was still pondering it as the first fingers of dawn stretched across the sky outside her window and when a house-elf finally prodded her out of bed.

She reached automatically for one of her new dresses, but didn't pause to admire how exquisitely it hugged her figure. She let one of the house-elves brush her hair into a pony-tail on the back of her head, and then went downstairs to breakfast. She was nearly at the bottom of the stairs when the doorbell rang.

She waited as the elf flung the door open.

Then she gasped.

It was Lucius and his father, both of them were looking very grim. The elder Mr. Malfoy merely sneered when he saw Narcissa, but Lucius sent her an imploring look.

She stood, frozen on the step, simply staring at him until Marius Malfoy snapped, "I suppose we can come in?"

"Not so quickly." Orion, presumably alerted by the elves, swept into the hallway.

"Papa, I-" Narcissa began, but he pushed her down the hall.

"Away, Narcissa." He commanded.

"But-!"

"AWAY!"

She shot Lucius an apologetic look, but had no choice but to obey. She walked to the breakfast room, but kept the door open so that she could listen to the hall. Angry but indistinct voices were floating through the air, and then she heard two pairs of stomping footsteps and a slamming door. A few moments later, her father returned to the breakfast room.

She settled into her chair, trying to look as if she hadn't been listening, even though her plate was completely empty.

"That was Mr. Malfoy and his son." Orion announced as he entered the room, pretending as if his daughter didn't already know perfectly well who they were. "Young Mr. Malfoy has asked for your hand in marriage."

Narcissa felt the faintest swell of hope rise along with a bubble of pleasure. He wanted to marry her! He did love her!

But then she remembered the slamming door.

"You said 'no'." She said.

Orion nodded, "Of course. I informed him that you were already spoken for."

"But-"

"But nothing!" Orion slammed his fist down onto the table, causing the china and silverware to jump and clang, "Even without his scandalous behaviour, I wouldn't let Lucius Malfoy near you. The Malfoys are headed for trouble. I've already lost one daughter, and I won't lose another. _You_ are the one who chose Rookwood, Narcissa. Need I remind you that it was YOU who arranged for your 'lessons' from that wretched Malfoy boy?" She started to jump out of his chair, but he waved her down. "Oh, yes. I've heard all about that too. Rookwood told me what you said at dinner and the Malfoy boy confessed. It was YOU who chose to pursue my clerk, even without my blessing. It was YOU who chose to make a fool of yourself at the most important party of the year and ruin your sister's engagement announcement." He frowned at her harshly. "YOU have made your bed, Narcissa- and now I invite you to lie in it. You will marry Mr. Rookwood tomorrow morning. I've already arranged for a license. Your aunt will be here this afternoon to take you shopping for a dress. I suggest that you summon the elves and see about packing your things."

"Tomorrow!" Narcissa jumped out of her chair. Everything was happening too soon! It was bad enough that she was being forced to marry against her will- but she was also losing her home and her dreams, in one terrible fell swoop. She shook her head. "I won't do it! You can't make me!" She shrieked and started for the door, but her father whispered something in latin, and her feet were glued to the floor.

"Don't think I can't, girl!" He bellowed. "I don't care if it takes an _imperio_ to do it. I WILL NOT be defied again!"

He held her helpless for a few more minutes before he broke the spell. Narcissa lifted her unfrozen feet and hurried into the hall.

She climbed back up the stairs, wanting nothing more than to lock herself into her room and cry some more, but it was not to be. Her father must have called the elves himself, because they started hurrying in, snapping their bony fingers to arrange her things into trunks and crates bound for Narcissa's new home. She didn't even bother to watch what they were doing, and only looked up when she smelled something sweet.

One of the littlest elves was struggling beneath her heavy cauldron. He had carried it up from the secret room beneath her father's study. It was the Love Potion. She plucked it out of the elf's hand and prodded it with her wand. It looked perfect- thick and lavender and smelling like cotton floss- the same as her book had described. She hesitated for a moment, then reached on her bedside table and retrieved the hairs that Bellatrix had summoned.

Screwing up her eyes, she tossed them into the pot, then looked down again as the hairs dissolved in little puffs of pink smoke. The cauldron made a hissing sound, and the color deepened.

It was done.

With trembling fingers, Narcissa filled a bottle with the liquid, then she poured the rest down the sink. She wasn't ready to take it- not yet…but it was there if she- _when_- she should decide there was no other choice. There was still time to hope- wasn't there?

Narcissa wasn't so sure. She had barely finished scourgifying the cauldron before her aunt began pounding at the door.

"THERE YOU ARE!" The steel-haired woman boomed as she stepped into the room without bothering for Narcissa to acknowledge the knock. "ANOTHER TROUBLE MAKER I SEE!"

Narcissa wondered if her aunt ever spoke in any voice other than a shout. If so, she had never heard it. Happily, they didn't have to spend much time together. Orion was not close with his brother, and absolutely loathed his sister-in-law, but his daughters had spent enough time with their London relatives that they weren't completely surprised when their cousin Sirius was already plotting to live somewhere else.

"A REGULAR LITTLE HARLOT, JUST LIKE YOUR SISTER." Mrs. Black hissed. She prodded Narcissa off the bed with her wand. "DID HE GET YOU PREGNANT?" She asked, without preamble. "AT LEAST THIS ONE'S NOT A FILTHY BLOOD TRAITOR." She was entirely unconcerned by her aunt's lack of response. "I SUPPOSE WE OUGHT AS WELL GO AND BUY THE DRESS."

Narcissa went reluctantly, barely caring about the dress she bought. She thought longingly of the trip that she had made with Lucius, and of the ruined gown for the ball the night before. Her aunt pressed something cream ("WE DON'T NEED TO LOOK AT WHITE, DO WE?") into her hands and then tugged her back out the door. Narcissa felt completely numb. It was as if the feeling of being loved had seared her nerves and left her numb to everything else. She couldn't think of anything other than how quickly time was racing past. It was lunchtime, and then dinner, and then, finally, time for bed.

Rookwood had arrived sometime during the night, along with his equally pompous, grasping family.

Narcissa was sitting in her room, staring out the window when her sister came to tell her goodnight. She arched an eyebrow when she saw that Bellatrix was carrying a tray?

"Did you want to send the Rookwoods some chocolate before bed?"

Narcissa stared at her sister as if she'd sprouted a second head. "What?" She asked.

Bellatrix looked pointedly at one of the purple vials of Love Potion on Narcissa's dresser. "Did you want to send Augustus some warm milk, or chocolate, or tea before bed. _I thought he might sleep better if he had something warm to drink."_

Narcissa's eyes widened. Bellatrix was right. This was her last clear chance. If she waited until the wedding tomorrow, it might be too late. Things had already gone so fast…

"Of course." She said in a shaky tone. "That would be thoughtful of me, wouldn't it?" She tried to convince herself that she could still back out. It was only half of the potion, after all. It wouldn't affect her until she drank it herself.

Narcissa unstopped the bottle, then splashed some into the teacup Bellatrix had brought.

"I'll make sure that he drinks it." Bellatrix said. She opened her mouth as if she meant to say more, but thought better of it. "Goodnight, Narcissa." She said instead.

Later that night, Narcissa laid on her bed, listening to the sounds drifting in through the open window. It was a freezing, but she didn't care. It seemed oddly fitting- the chill reflecting the icy numbness that encased her heart, and the view of the star-strewn sky reminding her of the freedom that was gone forever.

Agrippina Black had been in her room before she dressed for bed. With her mother dead and her sister not yet married it had fallen to her dreaded aunt to inform her how her wedding night would be. She had mistaken Narcissa's close-lipped silence as fear and had seemed to delight in it: "_IT MIGHT NOT HURT MUCH_…" and then elaborated on the potential horrors and mortification that her niece could expect, either not noticing, or intentionally ignoring that Narcissa simply wanted to be alone.

_No, that wasn't true. She didn't want to be alone_. She wanted to be with Lucius, but she understood now that could never be. Her father would be true to his word. He would _make_ her marry Augustus Rookwood. There was no foreseeable escape. Now that all hope of having Lucius was gone, she rather wished he had never told her how he really felt. She wished she could have kept on believing Rookwood's lies because somehow, illogically, she thought it would have hurt less to believe that she never could have had Malfoy at all than to acknowledge that she had let him slip away.

_Lucius. Lucius. Lucius…_In spite of her efforts, it was as if her very soul was crying out to him. She could feel the nerves in her body straining through the darkness, reaching blindly toward what they could never have again.

Narcissa turned her eyes away from the window. It reminded her too much of their date at the Glass Slipper, and of the balcony under the same bright diamond sky before she had even begun to hope. He had loved her then. He had loved her even before…and after her transformation. He had loved her when she wasn't blonde or beautiful or elegant, but simply Narcissa: shy and awkward and scraggly haired but somehow not beneath his notice.

The scene before her eyes grew watery and indistinct. When the tears were brushed away she was able to focus on the flask on her bedside table: the potion that would bind her to Rookwood forever.

She wondered how the love potion worked. Would it make her forget how she felt for Lucius, or would it just make it matter less? Both prospects seemed equally unfair. As much as the longing hurt, as much as the rest of her life stretched out before her like a grim and cloudy sky, she didn't want her feelings for Lucius to change. Even if the magic worked, even if she _did_ love Rookwood, how could it possibly be the same as what she felt right now? Rookwood wouldn't have earned it. He wouldn't have meant it! It would just be another trick: a chemical _imperius_ that she was casting on them both, no better than what her father might employ to see that the wedding went off without a hitch. She couldn't imagine that the illusion would be complete. She rather imagined that, like a half-worked transfiguration, a tail would wriggle out of a teacup, or a button would skitter across the floor. Something would be _off_ and belie that their romance was not what pretended to be. It might be a pallative, but it could never substitute. Rookwood couldn't replace Lucius unless she made herself forget. Now that she was standing on the brink, that was not something that she was prepared to do.

Narcissa started picking through the boxes that the elves had backed, reading the spines of a stack of books. Her diary was still missing. She wondered where it was. Had Lucius really taken it? She thought about what was written on the pages: all the endless, silly things that she had written about a man that she really didn't know: the chronicle of her imaginary romance with her fiancé, beginning with the day that he had halfheartedly kissed her hand. She supposed that she could trace everything back to that single second, that one faded moment in time that had set the rest in motion. Everything began with that day, and it struck her as odd that, with Lucius, there was no corresponding instant of truth. Narcissa couldn't name a moment when she had felt her heart flutter and knew that she was in love. It had been a gradual thing: a change from winter into spring. Every smile had made her feel a little warmer, a little fresher, and made her heart open more like the petals unfurling in the sun. She had simply gotten used to him. It wasn't that she took Lucius for granted, but simply that she had learnt to depend on his presence. Like vines on a wall she had relied upon his support and had twined and grown around his shape.

Sighing, Narcissa hauled herself out of bed and padded across the floor. She lifted the little bottle of elixir, held it to her lips, but found that she could not drink. Rookwood had already taken his portion of potion. Bellatrix had promised to carry him the cup herself. She would have told Narcissa if he had refused to drink, but she hadn't. She had simply returned to her own room. Rookwood was probably asleep now. Though he didn't know it, his heart was being softened to her. As soon as she swallowed the violet liquid, the spell would be complete. The magical essence would combine, and she would step into his dreams, bound forever to him as he would be bound to her. Her hands were shaking. She didn't want to do this, but she knew she had to. It was the only way.

She parted her dusky lips.

"Don't."

Narcissa stiffened and the bottle nearly fell from her hands. She thought she had imagined the voice. She _must _have done so- but then she realized that the room had grown warmer, and a second shadow was cast against the wall. When she turned around, _he_ was standing there.

Lucius always looked perfect.

Even now, wind blown and rumpled he looked good enough to make her weep. He was crouching in the windowsill, a broomstick in his hand, silhouetted against the midnight sky.

"Lucius." She was still holding the flask of potion. Her brain was screaming that she should take it now, that she had to plunge the knife while she still had strength but her heart and body would not obey.

"Narcissa." He said in a tone that could have meant anything, and seemed content to simply stare.

He shouldn't have come. There were _so many_ reasons that they seemed too numerous to count. Her father would kill him, of course, if he caught him here, but it was more than that. Even worse than the glittering sky and the missing diary, Lucius's presence tortured her with the image of what she wanted but could never have again.

"I-" She started, but didn't finish speaking as he finally slipped into the room. The only sensible thing to say was to demand he leave, and that was the last thing she wanted him to do.

"You're getting married tomorrow." He said in the same, hollow tone as before.

She had no choice but to nod her head.

They stared again. He half-turned away. For a gut-clenching moment she thought he would fly out the window again, but he had only moved to lean his broom against the wall.

He was frightening her with his silence, and with the odd, intense look on his handsome face. Finally she found her tongue. "Lucius, why are you here?"

"To give you the last lesson." He whispered roughly. "There's one more thing you need to know."

The distance between them vanished. One moment he was standing by the curtains and the next his arms were around her waist.

She didn't know how much she'd missed him until she was drawn against his chest. She felt like she had been trapped beneath water, and Lucius was the air that filled her lungs. She was raw and aching for his touch, desperate to escape the heavy press of sadness that had been suffocating her all day.

There were so many things that she wanted to tell him and to ask him, but she didn't trust herself to speak. Speech would require thought, and if she thought at all, she might come to her senses. She didn't want that. She wanted one night that was all her own- one quiet act of rebellion that she could remember when she was old and thought about how things might have been.

"I don't want you to forget." Lucius said against her cheek, his voice echoing the desperation that she thought that she felt alone. "Promise me." He commanded, but he didn't let her answer yes or no, because he stifled her beneath the brand of his lips.

He had never kissed her like this.

Narcissa realized, as she fell back into her arms, that he'd always held back before. She had thought that nothing could be as blissful as the gentle exploration of his tongue, or the feather-light brush of his fingertips against her breasts but now, as the heat and strength of him invaded every inch of her body, she understood that she was wrong. There was more- _so much more­ _– that she would probably never know. She wanted so much to be taught.

She wished they had a lifetime. They _ought_ to have had a lifetime to test and tease and tempt and slowly discover all the magical things that their hearts and bodies were made to do, but they only had tonight, so Narcissa didn't protest as his hands slipped beneath her gown and wrenched it mercilessly over her head. She didn't ask him to take things slow.

"You're so beautiful." Lucius groaned as the moonlight kissed her skin. His hands roamed heavily over her body as if he was marking a claim. "You were always beautiful, even when no one saw." He said, so earnest and tender that she thought her heart would break, and then it did when he whispered, "And you will always, _always_ be mine."

"Lucius." His name was all she could manage, and even that caused her voice to break. Her fingers scrambled for his robes and shirt and trousers, ripping them away so that, for these few stolen moments, there was nothing to keep them apart.

This was wrong- at least, it should be. The fading voice of reason managed one last cry in Narcissa's mind before being silenced by another kiss. In spite of what Lucius said, she would belong to Rookwood in the way that mattered in the light of day. But here, in the darkness, Malfoy's claim prevailed.

It felt so right to be pressed against him, stomach to stomach, limbs twined so tightly that Narcissa couldn't tell her own body's beginning or end. Every prominence of muscle, every downy wisp of his hair and silky slope of his skin felt so much like heaven that he must have been taken out of a dream.

She wished that she never would wake. She wished that she didn't know the sun would rise, and stream through her window onto an empty bed, and the cream silk robes that were hanging on her closet door, but she did, and so she urged him faster.

"Look at me." He whispered, finally pulling away, and she did as she was told.

She had never seen a man before, and she hadn't understood how things would work, but as soon as she saw him- long and hard and ready- she felt a shiver in her womb. Need clawed through her core. She knew, by instinct alone, what she wanted him to do, and where she needed him to be, and let him lead her to the bed.

She kept her eyes open as he laid her down on the satin sheets, unwilling to squander even a moment's sensation. This was the first time, but also the last, and she wanted the memory should be perfect.

They didn't speak as Lucius joined her on the mattress and covered her body with his own. It felt awkward, but also right: natural in a way that she couldn't explain- as if she had always known that it would be him and that it was meant to happen this way.

Narcissa knew that she should have been afraid. Her aunt had promised her that this was meant to hurt, but wrapped in a bubble of warmth and love, she couldn't think of pain, only of completion, and how she wanted to join with Malfoy in every possible way.

She didn't protest when he nudged her thighs apart and took her. It was uncomfortable, but Narcissa wouldn't call it pain. She felt tight and stretched and full. She wondered if she was hurting _him_- the expression on his face was so intense. She almost asked him, but when he slowly eased back again the hiss that issued from his lips sounded nothing like a man distressed.

Her body's resistance lessened with each gentle stroke and the discomfort began to fade. It was replaced with an electric friction, a sizzling jolt of pleasure that built and grew with every plunge.

"Narcissa." He said her name, again and again until the syllables lost their shape. It didn't have a meaning anymore, only a sound puffed out with each uneven breath.

She would have answered if she could, but she was caught too tightly in the grip of unexpected rapture to force her lips into words. It was just as well. They were much better employed against his own: licking, sucking, biting, moving over as much skin as she could reach as the frantic rhythm between them grew.

Narcissa had the strangest sensation that she was cresting a hill. Each time their bodies crashed together it felt stronger and harder until the tension was becoming too great to bear. She knew that she was about to break, to shatter so completely that she could never be remade whole and she was finally frightened, but she didn't want him to stop. "I can't." she whimpered.

But then, she did.

The world erupted in blinding stabs of light and a swirling shimmer of pleasure coiled through her flesh. She was shuddering, inside and out and dragged Lucius under too.

She hoped the look of ecstasy on his face would be burned forever on her mind, because she would always cherish that moment as the most perfect of her life. She had never felt so completed, so wanted, so _loved_ and she didn't want the feeling to end.

It did, of course. Lucius was content to lie still for a while, but he eventually started to shift and rolled onto his side, clutching her close with one of her arms.

"Thank you." She whispered, when she finally found her voice.

She was met with a bitter laugh.

"Thank you?" He whispered darkly.

Narcissa was embarrassed, "I wanted it to be you."

"I hope you're pregnant." He blurted incongruously and she was silent for a moment, but when she thought about it, she hoped so too. It was the only piece of him she could hope to keep for herself.

"I have to go." Lucius said after a long stretch of silence. "They'll find me if I stay."

Narcissa nodded, even though she wanted to beg him to say. "Let them!" She wanted to shout. It didn't matter if they were caught. She didn't care if she was like Andromeda: a slave to her body and to her heart. She didn't care if her father hurt them, or killed them, or sent them away. She only wanted Lucius, no matter what it cost, but she couldn't find the words.

"Take me with you." She whispered as he reached the window and climbed onto his broom. The eastern sky was lightening; too soon it would be day.

"I can't." he said quietly, the muscles in his jaw were clenched as if the words tasted bitter in his mouth.

He stepped onto the windowsill and put his broom between his knees, but he turned before stepping into the night. "I love you Narcissa." He said solemnly.

"I love you." She answered back, and then watched through a veil of tears as he disappeared into the waning night.

It was over.

Soon the sun would rise.

Narcissa knew that she had ended her final reprieve. She went back to her bedside table, ready to drink the potion that would seal her fate. "I love you, Lucius." She spoke aloud a final time, just wanting to feel the words upon her lip. Then she reached for the bottle…but it was gone.

Narcissa's heart clenched as she looked onto the floor, and then behind the table and beneath the bed. She used her wand to cast a summoning charm, but the vial of potion was nowhere to be found.

"Lucius." She finally said aloud, realizing why the drink had left.

Her body, her heart, and her only hope for relief- Lucius had taken everything.

**TO BE CONTINUED**

**P.S.: **While you are waiting for the last chapter, why not check out three fics that I really enjoy? (Take the spaces out of the addresses):

1. Aulizia's "Tainted Love" http : w w w. fanfiction. net / s / 1329152 / 1 / (The ultimate L/N in my opinion!)

2. LadyLestrange's "We Will Wait" http : www. fanfiction. net / s / 1510318 / 1 / (A fascinating look at Bellatrix in Azkaban)

3. Silvermantella's "A Day at the Races" http : www . fanfiction . net / s / 1966953 / 1 / (An amazing short story about a day in the lives of all three Black sisters)


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Lucius didn't know why he couldn't stay away. It was agony to watch the Black Mansion bustling with business as the spur-of-the-moment wedding was arranged. They had intended to have only family, but the Lestranges had to come, and the Rookwood relatives, and slowly the guest list had expanded. Many of the attendees of the Rhys-Boomslang party had heard about the scandal, and curiosity drew them by droves, so that the house was in an uproar as chairs and tables were commandeered from every corner of the house and transfigured into something vaguely passable.

It was all the Lucius could manage to keep from being underfoot. Even under the protection of his invisibility cloak, he wasn't beyond detection. If an elf barreled into him, the ruse would be up, and he didn't doubt how Mr. Black would react.

It would be safer in Narcissa's room.

Lucius turned his eyes automatically upward, as if he could see through the heavy plaster ceiling and imagine her walking around her room, being cleaned and painted and polished into the perfect bride. He wanted to go to her, but he didn't trust himself. It really was better this way. He and Narcissa would both be disowned if they eloped. He arrogance was complete enough to believe that he could scramble his way back to the top- but he couldn't bear the thought of Narcissa struggling with him and on his account. His memories had to be enough. This was for the best, after all- a perfect example of why falling in love was dangerous. He would make himself watch the end, and then try to get on with the rest of his life.

Lucius took a quick step backwards to avoid an elf carrying a stack of plates, his back colliding softly with a wall. He felt the outline of something in his pocked pressing into his leg.

_The potion._ He thought with a scowl. He knew that it was selfish to take it away. Narcissa was only attempting the spell to dull her own pain, but he couldn't bear the thought of her forgetting what they had. He wasn't willing to suffer alone. He ought to be, but he wasn't. He wanted to be rid of it…but how? He couldn't very well dump it on the carpet.

Lucius spied an abandoned teacup on the table. He knew it couldn't be Narcissa's. She was still closeted in her room. Acting quickly, he unstoppered the vial and drained it into the cup, and then he darted away as a huge voice thundered into the room.

"VILE, WRETCHED LITTLE RODENTS. A BEHEADING IS TOO GOOD FOR YOU!"

He barely escaped before the angry footsteps entered the hall. When he looked up, he saw that he was in a conservatory, and he moved on outside to the garden where the chairs had been sat in even rows. It was a cool, crisp day, but the air within the high stone walls had been charmed to a pleasant temperature, and a few of the dormant flowers had been coaxed to bloom. It wasn't the beautiful setting Narcissa deserved, but it was more of an effort than he had expected from the Blacks.

He watched the musicians tune their instruments, and then the guests began to arrive. He tried to feign interest, but all he could think about was how close Narcissa was- and yet, how soon she would be forever beyond his reach. He wished that he could slow down time- or, even better, reverse it- but he didn't have a time turner, or any way to get one. Besides, there was no way to undo the damage without being seen. Done was done. It was over- or else, it would be soon.

Lucius felt like only a few moments had passed before the music began to play. He blinked, astonished to find that the seats around him were filled. Augustus Rookwood, looking typically smug and self-important was standing at the far end of the garden, near a raised dias, clad in his best dress robes and flanked by Rodolphus Lestrange.

The people in the garden stood, and Lucius cast his eyes back toward the house. Bellatrix was stepping out of the rear doors, clad in the same scarlet gown she had worn to the ball. She walked slowly toward her fiancé. Then, both of the doors behind her were flung open as the music swelled.

Lucius felt as if his heart would burst. Narcissa was standing there, on her father's arm. Her hair and her gown were exquisite. She was blonde again, clad in a bell-shaped confection that hugged her curves in the best places and rustled slightly as she walked. Everyone in the audience was dumbstruck by her beauty, but Lucius only noticed the one thing that marred her perfection- the devastating sadness in her eyes.

She wanted to be walking toward him- almost as much as he wanted it himself. He hadn't attempted legilimancy for years, but he thought he could hear her mind screaming out to his: "Lucius, Lucius, save me!" but he wouldn't let his muscles move. _This is for the best. This is for the best…_ He repeated again and again, but he couldn't make himself believe.

Lucius felt as if a knife was slivering away his skin with every step that she took down the aisle, and he couldn't bear to watch Rookwoods's sneering, condescending smirk. He didn't deserve her. He'd never deserve her- potion or not. It simply wasn't fair!

Malfoy's mind briefly wandered to the potion, puzzled by something he saw. If Narcissa hadn't taken the other half of the potion, then Rookwood should have been affected alone. He vaguely remembered studying Love Potions in Defense against the Dark Arts. The charm wouldn't be as strong as if it was incomplete, or taken by someone other than the intended users, but he should have at least experienced some superficial attraction toward the potion's maker…but there was no tenderness in his gaze. He was looking at Narcissa the same way he might look at a brief at work. She was simply business.

"Dearly beloved…" The Druid at the front of the gathering began to speak, placing oak wreaths on Narcissa and Augustus's head as he began chanting something in a language that no one else understood. He plucked a leaf from both crowns and cast it into a small fire that was burning on the dias, preparing a weaker potion for the fasting charms he was about to apply. He asked Narcissa and Augustus to repeat the chants, and they did so. Then he poured the concoction he had made into a silver dish before speaking to the assembled.

Lucius couldn't tear his eyes away. Like a moth, drawn to a flame, his feet carried him forward, unseen, past the rows of guests. A strange, vital energy was churning beneath his skin. It seemed to start in his toes and fizz up, like bubbles in champagne, growing more and more urgent as he drew near the bride.

"These two have come to be bound. If, before they undertake this fasting, there is one who would speak, then let him do so, or remain silent forever."

The druid's words echoed through the little garden.

Finally, something inside Lucius burst. Like a clock wound too tight, the spring inside him broke, and he cast the cloak aside.

"THIS WEDDING CANNOT BE!" A voice echoed over the astonished crowd.

Only, the voice didn't belong to Lucius.  
  
..ooOOoo..

Lucius saw Narcissa's body flinch as it was jolted by a double blow. First, as she turned toward the unexpected sound, she saw Lucius standing only feet away. Her eyes widened, but then looked past him, a second flash of shock illuminating her face as her eyes, along with every other pair at the wedding, were turned toward the rear of the lawns.

Agrippina Black was standing there, eyes wide, grey hair frizzled as she bounded up the aisle. "ROOKWOOD, MY LOVE!" She squealed horribly.

For a moment Augustus froze. Then, he leapt toward her, arms outstretched. "WOMAN-WHOSE-NAME-I-DON'T-KNOW!" he cried, with just as much ardour, "MY ANGEL!" And then his lips were crushing over hers with far more urgency than he had ever managed for Narcissa.

It was impossible to say who was more shocked: Narcissa, watching her groom probe the tonsils of a woman twice his age, Orion Black, sputtering indignantly at the new turn the sordid affair had taken, or his little brother who was slowly turning purple as his wife put her hands inside Rookwood's back pockets.

The crowd was in an uproar. All around them, shouts erupted. In the confusion, Lucius was barely noticed at all.

"I'm impressed, Narcissa!" Bellatrix whispered, shaking her head in amazement as their Uncle pulled Augustus away, and punched him squarely across the jaw. "You'll give that Snape boy a run for his money yet!".

Rookwood reeled from the punch, but quickly stood to return the blow. Almost as soon as he had, one of his cousins had joined the brawl…and then the Blacks joined in. Soon hexes were shooting around the gardens in bursts of red and green sparks.

Lucius captured Narcissa's hand. "I think this is our cue to leave."

"We're coming too!" Bellatrix ditched her bouquet and captured her fianc's hand instead. Together, the two couples dodged spells until they reached the house.

It was nearly half an hour before the screaming and crashing ended on the lawn. It was another twenty minutes more before the loud, buzzing voices and squalling mediwizard sirens were gone as well. Lucius and Narcissa passed them in the game room, curled around each, waiting for the axe to fall.

Malfoy wanted to be happy- he had inadvertently saved Narcissa from the current danger- but he didn't delude himself into thinking he was likely to survive his next encounter with Orion Black.

After what seemed like hours, they head the front door open and close. Then, weary footsteps wended their way toward them.

Orion Black did not appear surprised to find Lucius's arms wrapped around his daughter. To Malfoy's astonishment, the older man did not instantly launch into a tirade. He didn't do anything more than give his daughter and her lover a fleeting glance before walking to a cupboard and pulling out a decanter of some amber spirit. He poured a tall tumbler, drank it, and then turned.

"The guests have gone home." He said in their general direction, but without lowering his gaze to meet their eyes. "My sister-in-law, and Mr. Rookwood escaped on someone's broom, and seemed to be headed in the direction of France." He smirked. "One can only hope they don't find their way back."

Lucius was tempted to smile, but he didn't dare. Orion's mood was best described as "odd", and he didn't trust himself to anticipate what would happen next.

"You used a love potion." Orion said flatly.

"No!" Narcissa said, while Lucius blurted, "Yes!" at the same time. Instantly, they switched answered. Then, finding that they were still at odds, fell silent.

Lucius finally cleared his throat. "Narcissa was going to use it on Rookwood and herself." He explained. "I wouldn't let her take it. I was just trying to get rid of it. I never dreamed…"

Orion waved the rest of the explanation aside. "It hardly matters _why_. I was merely confirming _how._" He took another swallow of alcohol, "I assume that both of you know that Love Potions are banned?"

"Yes, sir." They both answered contritely.

"If you are caught, you face up to five years in Azkaban." Orion said with the authority of a member of the Wizengamut. He seemed to take satisfaction from the fear in their faces. "Was it worth it?" He finally snapped.

There was a beat of silence.

"Yes, sir." Lucius said again, this time in defiance. His Slytherin instincts were gnawing at him to disclaim, but he could not obey. His love for Narcissa was stronger than his urge for survival. "It was my fault, not hers. I couldn't let her marry Rookwood."

"It doesn't appear that she's going to marry anyone." Orion said dryly. "We have an officiant, a license, a string quartet and a fifteen layer cake- but no groom." He paused, gritting his teeth as though what he was about to say was physically painful before managing. "Unless of course you know of a volunteer?"

At first, Lucius didn't dare to believe him, but Mr. Black's face, though lined with exhaustion and annoyance, did not hold any malice. He simply looked resigned. He was tired of fighting them.

Lucius dipped his chin to kiss Narcissa's cheek, and she peered up at him with her shocking blue eyes. They were full of the question that her father was the one to finally voice.

"Well, Malfoy. The Druid is out there waiting? Are you going to marry my daughter?"

Lucius's lips curved into a smile, and his eyes glittered wickedly as he answered:

"No."

**TO BE CONTINUED**

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**A/N: Sorry about the cliffhangar (well, I'm not really. Aulizia dared me to do it, and I really rather enjoy being evil, or I wouldn't specialize in Death Eater romance, would I?). The /real/ ending will be up tomorrow.**


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11**

"Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife…?"

Narcissa tried to keep her eyes glued to her sister and Rodolphus, but her gaze kept drifting toward Lucius instead. He was standing just across the aisle, occasionally meeting her eyes, likewise seeming far more interested in her than in the Lestrange's much-anticipated wedding.

In two more months, it would be their turn.

Narcissa looked down at the glittering diamond on her left hand. The huge, pear-shaped rock felt pleasantly heavy and reassuring on her finger, reminding her that she didn't have much longer to wait.

Of course, she might have been married to Malfoy months ago.

Even a quarter of a year later, Narcissa couldn't prevent a flipflop in her stomach whenever she remembered her sense of terror, and then of euphoria when Lucius announced he wouldn't marry her that day.

"Narcissa deserves better than this." Lucius had said, squeezing her shoulders to dispel the tension that had gathered there when he began to speak. "She deserves an engagement party and bridesmaids and…"

"Lucius, none of that matters!" She had protested, "I'll make due. I hardly merit-"

"I don't want you to 'make due', Narcissa." He had said with an earnestness that made her skin begin to glow. "No more settling." He announced in a voice that declared his decision on this point to be final.

Narcissa had nodded in dreamy agreement. She already had Lucius, what more could she possibly want?

"…witches and wizards, I present to you, Mr. And Mrs. Rodolphus Lestrange."

Narcissa forced herself back to the present as her sister and new brother-in-law turned to face their guests. They were greeted by raucous applause, which Narcissa happily joined. Then, as the elven orchestra began to play again, Mr. And Mrs. Lestrange walked back down the aisle. Narcissa, as chief bridesmaid, and Lucius as best groomsman, linked arms and followed them back toward the reception. She turned and smiled at familiar faces as she passed: their father, their cousins, and their friends from school…she giggled as she took in the appearance of her Aunt Agrippina Black. The accidental magic reversal squad had managed to cure Augustus Rookwood of the love potion, and a well-timed promotion to the Department of Mysteries had kept him quiet about Lucius and Narcissa's potential involvement in the sordid affair. Mrs. Black was not so lucky. In spite of a team of cursebreakers, an expensive antidote potion, and the pleas of her humiliated husband, they had not been able to dissuade her from wearing mini-robes, or from catcalling Augustus whenever he walked past. Lucius thought she was faking. Narcissa thought her aunt had been simply waiting for a chance to snap.

The young couple was barely back into the house before Lucius pulled his fiancé into a dark corner and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Have I told you that you're beautiful?" He whispered into her ear.

"In the last ten minutes?" Narcissa volleyed back, well aware that she sounded like a heroine in a Wizarding Wireless soap opera, and not caring even in the slightest.

"You're beautiful." Lucius said, punctuating his reply with a row of kisses along her jaw. "Ravishing. Exquisite…"

"Lucius, stop!" She laughed, not really wanting him to. She was definitely getting used to this. In fact- she was starting to believe it!

Sighing happily, Narcissa settled into her fianc's arms and snuggled close. Turning her head, she saw that they were standing in front of a mirror, and she carefully regarded their reflection. She smiled at the way their pale blonde hair blended together, and how perfectly her head nestled beneath the crook of his chin.

"Kiss me?" She asked quietly, inclining her head toward his. He required no further encouragement. A second later, his warm, sweet breath was mingling with hers, and the electric friction of their lips was shooting sparks along her spine.

Lucius's arm looped around her waist, tugging her closer, and she deepened the kiss automatically. She playfully poked her tongue against his, taunting and teasing, and promising a million other wicked delights as soon as their own wedding day arrived.

It was a long time before they broke apart, both breathless and flushed. Again, she admired their reflection- the picture had only improved.

Following her gaze, Lucius looked in the mirror as well. His eyes were sparkling as he bent toward her ear, and whispered, "You know, you're getting rather good at that."

"I ought to be." Narcissa answered, closing her eyes and smiling to herself.

"And why is that?" her fiancé teased.

Narcissa's lips spread into a radiant grin and she turned to meet his gaze. "Surely you remember, Lucius- I learned from the best!"

**THE END**

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**A/N: Thanks to everyone who followed along and who took the time to send me your comments! I really treasure hearing what other people think of my humble efforts. If you are interested in reading more of my writing, please check out my livejournal, or my personal websites (the addresses are on my profile). **


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